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Cornell University Library 
PR 5246.A4 1897 

Letters of Dante Gabriel Rossetti to Wil 

3 1924 013 541 895 



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the Cornell University Library. 

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Dante Gabriel Rossetti 

to William Allingham 

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vy S>eorae. ^Jredes-ic£ c u2a.tta, Scy%. 




Dante Gabriel Rossetti 

to William Allingham 









C li U l I. L 


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[All rights reserved.'] 


" The best of all Rossetti's letters, so far as hitherto 
published, are those to William Allingham, printed 
by Dr. Birkbeck Hill in the Atlantic Monthly for 
1896." Such is the judgment passed by Dr. Garnett 
in his article oft-Dante Gabriel Rossetti in the Dic- 
tionary of National Biography. Though the editor 
of the American magazine was liberal in the space 
which he allowed me, nevertheless in my four papers 
it was only a selection, though a large selection, that 
I was able to give. In reading through the original 
letters a second time this summer I was surprised 
to find how much of necessity had been omitted that 
in point of interest was scarcely inferior to what had 
been inserted. All these passages I am including 
in the present volume, with the exception of one or 
two which might, it was thought, give pain either 
to those criticised by Rossetti or to their surviving 
friends. Were I, however, to print all that he 
wrote little fault could be found with it on the score 
of severity. In these letters, at all events, the 
writer was not often harsh in his judgment of his 

The additions, both in the text and in the notes, 


are so considerable that it will be found, I believe, 
that the four articles have been increased to nearly 
thrice their original size. 

In writing my notes I have made great use of 
the following works : — The Letters and Memoir 
of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, by William Michael 
Rossetti ; Dante Gabriel Rossetti as Designer and 
Writer, by the same author ; The Autobiography 
of William Bell Scott ; The Life of Ford Madox 
Brown, by Ford H. Hueffer ; The Life of Anne 
Gilchrist, by H. H. Gilchrist, and three articles 
in the Contemporary Review for 1886 by Holman 

In the Introduction will be found an acknowledg- 
ment of my obligations to Mrs. Allingham, Mr. W. 
M. Rossetti, and Mr. Arthur Hughes. Without 
their assistance my part of the work would have 
been imperfect indeed. 

For the illustrations and fac-similes I have to 
thank Mrs. Allingham, Mr. G. F. Watts, R.A., Mr. 
W. M. Rossetti, Mr. Arthur Hughes, Mr. J. G. 
Kershaw, and Mr. C. Fairfax Murray. 

G. B. H. 

Octobei 30, 1897. 



Introduction ... ... ... xvii-xxviii 

1854. 1. Spring. Reproaches himself for neglect .. . ... 1 

2. Spring. Dinner at Mr. Marshall's. Lost MS. ... 2 

3. April. Day and Night Songs. Miss Siddal at 

Hastings ... ... ... 3 

4. April 26. Death of his father. Teodorico Rossetti 7 

5. May. 2. Miss Siddal's health. Debt to Allingham n 

6. May. Miss Siddal's health 12 

7. May. Hastings. Miss Barbara Smith. Wood- 

blocks. Ruskin ... ... ... 13 

8. May. Hastings. Anxiety about Miss Siddal. 

Calder Campbell ... ... ... 17 

9. June 26. Hastings. MacCracken. Sale of Prse- 

raphaelite pictures. Thomas Woolner. 
James Hannay. Dense fogs. Belle 
Sauvage ... ... ... ... 19 

10. July 24. C. B. Cayley. Early Italian Poets. 

Original poems. MacCracken Sonnet. 
Lost on Both Sides. Woolner. Hol- 
man Hunt. Hannay. Arthur Hughes. 
Miss Siddal's health. The Folio ... 29 

11. August. Early Italian Poets. Allingham's ballads. 

The Hill Summit. The Birth-Bond. 
The Folio. Sutton's poetry. Picture 
buyers ... ... ... ... 43 

12. Undated. Early Italian Poets ... ... ... 53 



1854. 13. Sept. 19. Maids of Elf en Mere. Arthur Hughes's 
Fairies. Hamlet and Ophelia. Han- 
nay's novels. Holrnan Hunt. The 
Times on Massey. Firmilian. Rus- 
kin's gift. Wuthering Heights. Early 
Italian Poets. The Germ ... ... 54 

14. Oct. 15. Woolner. Mistake over a wood-cut. 

Found. Working Men's College. 
Allingham's Fairies and Dream. 
Hughes's Orlando. The Hill Summit. 
Stralton Water ... ... ... 70 

15. Nov. Madox Brown's guest. A reputation to 

take care of. Ruskin and the 
Working Men's College. Painting 
a calf. Allingham's criticism. The 
Angel in the House. Poems by a 
Painter. Carlyle ... ... ... 81 

1855. 16. Jan. 23. Wood-cut finished. Millais. Illustrated 
Tennyson. Found. Working Men's 
College. Miss Siddal's water-colours. 
The Angel in the House. Woolner. 
Millais' Rescue. Thomas Seddon. 
William North. Early Italian Poets. 
Hannay's pill for Tupper. A Dark 
Day 95 

17. Mar. 18. Dalziel and the wood-cut. Ruskin and 

Miss Siddal. Illustrated Tennyson 108 

18. Mar. 22. Dalziel and the wood-cut. Ruskin and 

Miss Siddal. Dr. Polydori. W. B. 
Scott's Maryanne ... ... ... 113 

19. Mar. 23. Dalziel and the wood-cut ... ... 120 

20. May 11. Early Italian Poets. Allingham's criti- 

cisms. Dalziel. Millais' "awful 
row " with the hanging committee. 
Leighton's Cimabue. Matthew Ar- 
nold's Haworth Churchyard. Mac- 



Cracken sells his pictures. James 
Collinson, Woolner and Wentworth 121 

1855. 21. June 15. At Clevedon. Day and Night Songs. 

The balcony of Chatham Place. E. 
S. Dallas. Ruskin's friendship. The 
Marchioness of Waterford. Benjamin 
Woodward. Trinity College, Dublin 136 

22. July 17. Miss Bessie Parkes. The narrow gaugers 147 

23. July Allingham in Dublin ... ... ... 148 

24. July Miss Siddal to winter abroad. Ruskin's 

kindness ... ... ... ... 149 

25. July 29. Liverpool Exhibition. John Miller. . 

Thomas Seddon ... ... ... 150 

26. August. Liverpool Exhibition ... ... ...152 

27. August. Millais' marriage. The A tliencvum's review 

of The Music Master ... ... 153 

28. Nov. 25. "Small account" owing by Routledge. 

Trip to Paris. Men and Women. 
Miss Siddal at Nice. Blake and 
Hayley. Articles on Browning. With 
Browning in Paris. Browning's father 
and uncle. J. Milsand. Sketch of 
Tennyson. Portrait of Browning. 
Work for Ruskin. French Exhibition 155 

1856. 29. Mar. 7. Aubrey de Vere. Poets of the Nineteenth 

Century. Oxford and Cambridge 
Magazine. Burne-Jones. Dante's 
Dream. Llandaff Cathedral Altar- 
piece ... ... ... ... ... 172 

30. April. Italian frescoes. Dante's Dream. Ruskin 

on Browning and Longfellow. 
Academy pictures ... ... ... 179 

31. May. Hughes's Eve of St. Agnes. Windus's 

Burd Helen ... ... ... ... 186 

32. Dec. 18. Aurora Leigh. The Brownings. Woolner. 

Holman Hunt's Finding of the 



Saviour. Brown's Work. Illus- 
trated Tennyson. Dalziel's " cannibal 
joy." Alexander Smith. Oxford and 
Cambridge Magazine. Burne-Jones. 
William Morris. Red Lion Square. 
The Blessed Damozel. Miss Siddal. 
Spiritualism ... ... ... ... 1 88 

1856. 33. Dec. A December sun. Death of Seddon. 

Old Water Colour Society .. . ... 205 

1857. 34. Jan. 31. Seddon Subscription Fund. A poem in 

Reynolds' Miscellany ... ... 208 

1858. 35. Undated. Early Italian Poets in proof-sheets ... 212 

1859. 36. Dec. Nightingale Valley. Allingham's silence 214 
37. Christmas. Xightingale Valley. Poems improperly 

inserted. Wordsworth. Poe's Ula- 
liiine. Mea Culpa ... ... ...215 

i860. 38. June Paris. Rossetti married .. . ... ... 223 

39. July 31. Hampstead. Mrs. Rossetti's health. 

Ruskin's Essays on Political Economy. 
Cast of Keats's head ... ... 226 

40. Sept. or Jenny. " The sawdust poem." Burne- 

Oct. Jones painting Morris's house. 

Search for a house... ... ... 232 

41. Nov. 1. Coventry Patmore. Ruskin's letter. The 

Critic. Gilchrist's Life of Blake. 
" Book of Bogies." Chatham Place. 
Brownings at Siena. Swinburne's 
two plays ... ... ... ... 236 

42. Nov. 22. Swinburne's plays. Photographs of Tenny- 

son. Rossetti's poems in MS. ... 243 

43. Nov. 29. Jenny. Mrs. Rossetti's designs. Once 

a Week. Swinburne's plays ... 247 

1 86 1. 44. Jan. Expectations of a child. Wallpaper. Art 

firm ... ... ... ... ... 250 

45. May 10. Mrs. Rossetti's confinement. Early Italian 
Poets printing. Allingham's Morley 
Park. Royal Academy pictures ... 255 



1861. 46. Undated. Something in money for the Early Italian 

Poets... ... ... ... ... 260 

1862. 47. Undated. Dr. Wilkinson's Improvisations of the 

Spirit. Life of Blake ... ... 261 

1863. 48. Undated. Tickets for Mirella 265 

49. August. Not a penny for a trip. Cheyne Walk. 

Monogram. Allingham at Lyming- 
ton. Blue-book on the Academy. 
Ruskin talks " awful rubbish " ... 267 

50. Sept. 23. Trip to Belgium. Working for "filthy 

lucre " ... ... ... ... 2 7 2 

51. Undated. Proposed visit to Lymington ... ... 273 

1865. 52. Christmas. A year without a holiday. Ailing- 

ham's Fifty Poems ... ... ... 274 

1866. 53. Nov. 8. Photographs of Mrs. Rossetti's sketches 276 

1867. 54. Mar. 22. "Pot-boiling.'' Aubrey de Vere's verse 

collection ... ... ... ... 277 

55. Sept. 30. Eye- sight failing ... ... ... .,. 274 

56. Oct. 10. Consults Bowman about his eyes ... 280 

1868. 57. August. Health failing. Need of a trip 281 

58. Christmas. Sonnets for the Fortnightly Review. 

The Ring and the Book ... ... 283 

1870. 59. Feb. 21. Sister Helen. Keith of Ravelstoil. Bu- 
chanan'sonslaughton W. M. Rossetti's 
Shelley .-.. ... ... ... 285 

60. Feb. 28. Sister Helen. "Arrived at a pitch of 

brutal bogyism." Preparing for print- 
ing his poems ... ... ... 288 

61. Mar. 7. Robertsbridge. W. J. Stillman. Poems 

nearly ready for publication. Pro- 
posed move to Lymington ... ... 290 

62. Mar. 7. Friendly critics 293 

63. August. Hostile review in Blackwood's Magazine 294 

64. Nov. Space at Cheyne Walk for Allingham's 

books ... ... 296 

65. Nov. Allingham's books flooded 296 


Portrait of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, by George 
Frederick Watts, R.A., from the original, 
presented by the artist to the National 
Portrait Gallery in 1895. Mr - w - M. 
Rossetti informs me "that it is a good and 
a pleasing presentment of Gabriel, but it 
is certainly a little too mild, dreamy, and 
subdued in expression." It is not the 
portrait mentioned in the Autobiography of 
IV. B. Scott and in the Letters and Memoir 
of D. G. Rossetti, for which Rossetti gave 
Mr. Watts but two sittings ... Frontispiece 

"Ballyshannon, County Donegal," from a water- 
colour drawing by Mrs. Allingham, in the 
possession of the artist. The quarter of the 
town which she has chosen for her view is 
known as the Purt ; the river flowing by it 
is the Erne ... ... ... To face page xx 

" William Allingham," from a pencil sketch by 
Arthur Hughes, taken while the poet was 


sitting to Alexander Munro for the bust 
exhibited in the Royal Academy in 1855. 
It was much liked by Allingham's friend, 
G. P. Boyce, the painter, to whom Mr. 
Hughes gave it. On Mr. Boyce's death 
it was presented by his widow to Mrs. 
Allingham ... ... ... To face page 34 

List of titles proposed for the new Prse- 
raphaelite magazine, from the original 
document in the possession of Mr. W. M. 
Rossetti ... ... ... To face page 65 

Title page of the first number of The Germ, 
from the original in the possession of Mr. 
Arthur Hughes ... ... To face page 68 

A design by Miss Siddal, described by D. G. 
Rossetti as "The two nigger girls playing 
to the lovers," from the original in the pos- 
session of Mr. W. M. Rossetti. To face page 1 1 1 

Pen-and-ink sketch of D. G. Rossetti sitting 
to Miss Siddal for his portrait, by himself, 
dated September, 1853, from the original 
in the possession of Mr. Charles Fairfax 
Murray ... ... ... To face page 136 

A drawing from Pippa Passes, by Miss Siddal, 
"with which Browning was delighted beyond 
measure," from the original in the possession 
of Mr. W. M. Rossetti ... To face page 161 

An early pencil sketch for Dante's Vision of 
Beatrice dead, in the possession of Mrs. 
Allingham. The face and the hands were 
drawn from Mr. Allingham. In the letter 


of March 7, 1856 (post, p. 174), Rossetti 
says that he is painting this vision in a large 
water-colour; "One of my very best," he 
adds. In the years 1869-71 he was at 
work at the picture in oils of the same 
subject, which now hangs in the Walker 
Gallery, Liverpool ... ... To face page \*]\ 

The Eve of St. Agnes, by Arthur Hughes, 
exhibited in the Royal Academy in 1856, 
now in the possession of Mr. J. G. Kershaw. 
Mr. Hughes, who has consented to the 
reproduction of this picture as an early 
instance of the Preeraphaelite School, writes 
to me after seeing the photograph : "It is 
better than I expected it to be, for I know 
its colour must be bad to photograph. 
The bedstead is raised from the floor on a 
sort of throne platform that extends a foot 
or more all round it, on which Porphyro 
kneels on his right knee" ... To face page 182 

" Dalziel's cannibal jig," from an autograph 
letter of D. G. Rossetti's in the possession 
of Mrs. Allingham ... ... To face page 191 

Portrait of Miss Siddal, from a pencil drawing 
by D. G. Rossetti, dated "Weymouth St., 
1856," in the possession of Mr. W. M. 
Rossetti. Mr. Rossetti thinks it probable 
that, at the time the likeness was taken, 
Miss Siddal was lodging in Weymouth 
Street, in a house kept by a woman well 
known to his family ... To face page 196 


A design for wall-paper, from an autograph 
letter of D. G. Rossetti's, in the possession 
of Mrs. Allingham ... ... To face page 251 

Profile of Christina G. Rossetti, from a tracing 
of a drawing by D. G. Rossetti. Mr. Arthur 
Hughes, in whose possession the tracing is, 
believes that the drawing is made as a study 
for the head of the Virgin in Rossetti's first 
Prseraphaelite picture, The Girlhood of Mary 
Virgin, painted in 1848-49 ... To face page 259 


Life seems to me strangely varied this sunny 
January day, as, sitting at my desk in the parlour 
of a pleasant villa on the outskirts of the little town 
of Alassio, I look beneath palm-trees upon the blue 
waters of the Mediterranean, and listen to the 
measured beat of the waves on the sandy shore. 
Lying open before me are copies of the letters 
which Dante Gabriel Rossetti wrote to his friend 
William Allingham. In the table drawer are copies 
of another set of letters, which, more than a century 
and a half ago, Swift wrote to an Irish country 
gentleman. This double correspondence, written 
by men wide as the poles asunder, I have brought 
from England to edit in Italy for readers on both 
sides of the Atlantic. Have I not good reason 
for finding a strange variety in life ? 

Delightful as is this spot where winter seems to 
have gone a-maying, yet it better suits a poet or a 
painter than an editor, who needs long shelves of 
books far more than trees laden with oranges and 


bushes weighed down with roses. From England 
and libraries I have been driven far away by weak- 
ness of health. In editing Rossetti's letters — that 
part of my twofold task to which I have turned 
first — I have had the help of friends at home. 
Mr. W. M. Rossetti has read a great part of the 
correspondence, and has furnished me with eluci- 
datory notes. My old friend Mr. Arthur Hughes, 
of Eastside House, Kew Green, who, though 
not one of the seven Praeraphaelite Brothers, 
lived in great intimacy with many of them, has let 
me draw on his reminiscences. More than forty 
years ago he was painting in Rossetti's studio ; his 
hand, happily, has lost none of its exquisite skill. 
Mrs. Allingham, whose pictures of English cottages- 
are not surpassed in refinement and in beauty by 
the best of her husband's verses, enables me to give 
a brief sketch of that graceful poet's uneventful life. 
He had made some beginning in writing his auto- 
biography. From what he had written she sends 
me a few extracts. Some day, I am told, a memoir 
of him will be published. It will be delightful 
indeed if it contains the full records he kept of his 
long talks with Tennyson and Carlyle. Of Carlyle 
he saw much more than most of that great man's 
friends, for during some years scarcely a week went 
by in which they did not walk together. Strange 
to say, this intimacy has been passed over in total 


silence by Mr. Froude. In the four volumes of his 
hero's Life there are sins of omission as well as of 

Allingham used to recount how Carlyle would 
sometimes begin by flatly contradicting him, and 
end by tacitly adopting what he had said. One 
day the old man was describing his interview with 
the Queen at the Dean of Westminster's. " She 
came sliding into the room," he said — " as if on 
wheels," exclaimed Allingham, interrupting him. 
" Not at all, Allingham," he gruffly replied. A few 
days later his friend overheard him telling the story 
to Mr. Lecky. "The Queen," he said, "came 
sliding into the room as if on wheels," and in that 
form he ever afterwards told it. He used to add 
that he saw that he was expected to stand during 
the interview ; but that he took hold of a chair, and 
saying that Her Majesty would allow an old man to 
sit down, down he sat. 

William Allingham was born at Ballyshannon, 
County Donegal, in March, 1824, of a good stock, 
for he was sprung from one of Cromwell's settlers. 
Of his birthplace he gives the following description : 
" The little old town where I was born has a voice 
of its own, low, solemn, persistent, humming through 
the air day and night, summer and winter. When- 
ever I think of that town I seem to hear the voice. 
The river which makes it rolls over rocky ledges 


into the tide. Before spreads a great ocean in sun- 
shine or storm ; behind stretches a many-islanded 
lake. On the south runs a wavy line of blue moun- 
tains ; and on the north, over green, rocky hills, rise 
peaks of a more distant range. The trees hide in 
glens or cluster near the river ; grey rocks and 
boulder lie scattered about the windy pastures. 
The sky arches wide over all, giving room to multi- 
tudes of stars by night and long processions of 
clouds blown from the sea, but also, in the childish 
memory where these pictures live, to deeps of 
celestial blue in the endless days of summer. An 
odd, out-of-the-way little town ours, on the extreme 
western verge of Europe ; our next neighbours, 
sunset way, being citizens of the great new republic, 
which indeed, to our imagination, seemed little, if 
at all, farther off than England in the opposite 

Of the cottage in which he spent most of his 
childhood and youth he writes : " Opposite the hall 
door a good-sized walnut-tree leaned its wrinkled 
stem towards the house, and brushed some of the 
second-story panes with its broad, fragrant leaves. 
To sit at that little upper window when it was open 
to a summer twilight, and the great tree rustled 
gently, and sent one leafy spray so far that it even 
touched my face, was an enchantment beyond all 
telling. Killarney, Switzerland, Venice, could not, 


(From a ivater-colour sketch by Mrs. Allingham.) 

\To face page xx. 


in later life, come near it. On three sides the 
cottage looked on flowers and branches, which I 
count as one of the fortunate chances of my child- 
hood ; the sense of natural beauty thus receiving its 
due share of nourishment, and of a kind suitable to 
those early years." 

Allingham's schooling was far too brief to satisfy 
his thirst for knowledge. He was scarcely fourteen, 
if indeed quite so old, when he was placed as a 
clerk in the town bank, of which his father was 
manager. The books which he had to keep for the 
next seven years were not those on which his heart 
was set. He was a great reader. Year after year 
he kept adding to the scanty stock of learning 
which he had brought from school, till in the end 
he had mastered Greek, Latin, French, and Ger- 
man. His father, proud though he was of his son's 
intelligence, had little sympathy with his constant 
craving for knowledge. In the bank manager's 
eyes it was not the scholar, but the thorough busi- 
ness man who ranked highest. From the counting- 
house the young poet at last succeeded in escaping. 
" Heart-sick of more than seven years of bank- 
clerking, I found a door suddenly opened, not into 
an ideal region or anything- like one, but at least into 
a roadway of life somewhat less narrow and tedious 
than that in which I was plodding." A place had 
been found for him in the customs, as it was found 


for another and a greater dreamer on the other side 
of the Atlantic. 

"In the spring of 1846 I gladly took leave for 
ever of discount ledgers and current accounts, and 
went to Belfast for two months' instruction in the 
duties of Principal Coast Officer of Customs, a 
tolerably well-sounding title, but which carried with 
it a salary of but ^80 a year. I trudged daily 
about the docks and timber-yards, learning to 
measure logs, piles of planks, and, more trouble- 
some, ships for tonnage ; indoors, part of the time 
practised customs book-keeping, and talked to the 
clerks about literature and poetry in a way that 
excited some astonishment, but on the whole, as I 
found at parting, a certain degree of curiosity and 
respect. I preached Tennyson to them. My spare 
time was mostly spent in reading and haunting 
booksellers' shops, where, I venture to say, I laid 
out a good deal more than most people, in propor- 
tion to my income, and managed to get glimpses of 
many books which I could not afford or did not care 
to buy. I enjoyed my new position, on the whole, 
without analysis, as a great improvement on the 
bank - and for the rest, my inner mind was brimful 
of love and poetry, and usually all external things 
appeared trivial save in their relation to it. Yet I 
am reminded by old memoranda that there were 
sometimes overclouding anxieties : sometimes, but 


not very frequently, from lack of money ; more 
often from longing for culture, conversation, oppor- 
tunity ; oftenest from fear of a sudden development 
of some form of lung' disease, the seeds of which I 
supposed to be sown in my bodily constitution." 
This weakness he outgrew. 

Having gone through his apprenticeship, he 
returned to Donegal, where he was stationed for 
some years. Close to his office he had a back 
room, where he kept all his books and where 
he read for hours together. Here, no doubt, 
he covered many a sheet of paper with verse. 
From Mr. Arthur Hughes I have the following 
account of the young poet : — 

" D. G. R., and I think W. A. himself, told me, 
in the early days of our acquaintance, how, in re- 
mote Ballyshannon, where he was a clerk in the 
customs, in evening walks he would hear the Irish 
girls at their cottage doors singing old ballads, 
which he would pick up. If they were broken or 
incomplete, he would add to them or finish them ; 
if they were improper, he would refine them. He 
could not get them sung till he got the Dublin 
' Catnach ' of that day to print them, on long 
strips of blue paper, like old songs ; and if about 
the sea, with the old rough woodcut of a ship on 
the top. He either gave them away or they were 
sold in the neighbourhood. Then, in his evening 


walks, he had at last the pleasure of hearing some 
of his own ballads sung at the cottage doors by the 
crooning lasses, who were quite unaware that it was 
the author who was passing by." 

He liked, his widow tells me, to see all sorts of 
people and all sides of life. He knew every 
cottage for twenty miles round Ballyshannon. 
When she visited the place with their children, 
after his death, "very many," she writes, "were 
the friendly greetings we had from folk who 
remembered him kindly." He sought for sym- 
pathy outside the narrow limits of this secluded 
spot. "I had," he says, "for literary correspon- 
dents, Leigh Hunt, George Gilfillan, and Samuel 
Ferguson, and for love correspondent F. [one of his 
cousins], whose handwriting always sent a thrill 
through me at the first glance and the fiftieth 
perusal." Gilfillan had not the good fortune to 
win the esteem of Coventry Patmore, who wrote 
to Allingham in 1850 : — " I hear that you have had 
the misfortune to be publicly praised by that cox- 
comb of coxcombs, Gilfillan." To Samuel Fer- 
guson Allingham dedicated his Laurence Bloom- 
field with "admiration, gratitude, and love." 

In June, 1847, he paid his first visit to London, and 
called on Leigh Hunt. " I was shown into his study, 
and had some minutes to look round at the book- 
cases, busts, old framed engravings, and to glance 


at some of the books on the table, diligently marked 
and noted in the well-known neatest of handwritings. 
Outside the window climbed a hop on its trellis. 
The door opened, and in came the genius loci, a 
tallish young old man, in dark dressing-gown and 
wide, turndown shirt collar, his copious iron-grey 
hair falling almost to the shoulders. The friendly 
brown eyes, a simple yet fine-toned voice, easy 
hand-pressure, gave me greeting as to one already 
well known to him. Our talk fell first on reason 
and instinct. He maintained (for argument's sake, 
I thought) that beasts may be equal or superior to 
men. He has a light earnestness of manner, a 
toleration for almost every possible different view 
from his own. I ask him about certain highly 
interesting men. ' Dickens, a pleasant fellow, very 
busy now, lives in an old house in Devonshire 
Terrace, Marylebone. Carlyle, I know him well. 
Browning lives at Peckham, because no one else 
does ! He's a pleasant fellow, has few readers, 
and will be glad to find that you admire him (!!).' 
" In 1850 I ventured to send my first volume of 
verse to Tennyson. I don't think he wrote to me, 
but I heard incidentally that he thought well of it ; 
and during a subsequent visit to London (in 1852, 
perhaps) Coventry Patmore, to my boundless 
joy, proposed to take me to call on the great poet, 
then not long married, and living at Twickenham. 


We were admitted, shown upstairs, and soon a tall 
and swarthy man came in, with loose dark hair and 
beard, very near-sighted ; shook hands cordially, 
yet with a profound quietude of manner ; imme- 
diately afterwards asked us to stay to dine. I 
stayed. He took up my volume of poems, which 
bore tokens of much usage, saying, ' You can see it 
has been read a good deal ! ' Then, turning the 
pages, he asked, ' Do you dislike to hear your own 
things read ? ' and, receiving a respectfully en- 
couraging reply, read two of the sEoliari Harps. 
The rich, slow, solemn chant of his voice glorified 
the little poems." 

These two poems, which are included in Ailing- 
ham's Day and Night Songs, are mentioned by 
Rossetti in one of his letters as among his favourites. 
He too glorified his friend's verse by his recitation. 
" I remember," writes Mr. Hughes, "before I knew 
Allingham, Rossetti speaking of him to me and of 
his poems, and reciting, as he only could, The 
Ruined Chapel, beginning : — 

' By the shore a plot of ground 
Clips a ruined chapel round, 
Buttressed with a grassy mound, 
Where day and night and day go by, 
And bring no touch of human sound.' 

He was the most splendid reciter of poetry, deep, 


full, mellow, rich, so full of the merits of the poem 
and its music." Nevertheless, his recitation, fine 
though it was, must have been marred by one great 
defect; the man who made "calm" rhyme with 
"arm" had no ear for one of the most beautiful 
sounds in the English language. Tennyson, to 
whom in early years he sent some of his poems in 
manuscript, found fault with these " cockney 
rhymes," though he himself had been guilty of 
them, and guilty of them in print. In the first 
version of The Lady of Shalott "river" rhymes 
with "lira." 

As years went by, Allingham saw much more of 
the world and of those men of letters whose society 
he loved. In the course of his official duties he was 
moved first to one station and then to another in 
England. Twice he had an appointment in London. 
In 1 870 he retired from the customs, being appointed 
sub-editor of Frasers Magazine under Froude. He 
succeeded him as chief editor in 1874. In the 
same year he married. He died in 1889. 

"He had," as Mr. W. M. Rossetti tells me, "a 
good critical judgment ; he was a man who could 
pounce on defects in a poem." Madox Brown 
described him as " keen and cutting." It will be 
seen in the course of these letters that Rossetti not 
only sought his criticism of his poetry, but often 
acknowledged its justice. Coventry Patmore was 


scarcely less eager to have his opinion, but was not 
so willing to submit to it. " You horrify me with 
your talk about pruning," he once wrote to his 
friend, who had found The Angel in the House 
somewhat too long. " You have marked for omis- 
sion several of my pet passages." Early in their 
correspondence he described Allingham as "a 
grave and truthful character, combined with a strong 
and quick intelligence." 

It is much to be regretted that of Allingham's 
letters to Rossetti not a single one has been pre- 
served. The great painter was in the habit from 
time to time of clearing out his drawers by the' 
simple method of destroying all their accumulations. 
The loss, however, is the less serious owing to 
Rossetti's admirable clearness as a letter writer. 
However thick may be the mist which in places 
covers his poetry, when he writes in prose his 
thoughts and the words in which they are set forth 
are as clear as day. It is time, however, to bring 
this introduction to an end, and allow him to speak 
for himself. 


Chatham Place, 

[Blackfriars Bridge], 

Midnight 12* \^Z iP rob " bl y o S P_r in i 
* - {Saturday of 1854J. 

■Dear Allingham, 

Yea, unto 70 times 7 ! — and what a 
beast I was not to write all that time. And 
you to call after all on such a beast ! And I to 
be absolutely prevented from being here just now 
in the daytime — as I am painting elsewhere. 

Pray do come instead in the evening after 8, — • 
or else write me word where we can meet. In 
a day or two I trust to be free. I will wait here 
for you to-morrow evening. But if impracticable 
to come, never mind keeping me in. 

Yours affectionately, 

D. G. R. 

Note on I. 

Nathaniel Hawthorne recorded at Liverpool on 
February 23, 1854: — "There came to see me the 
other day a young gentleman with a moustache 


and a blue cloak, who announced himself as 
William Allingham. His face was intelligent, 
dark, pleasing, and not at all John-Bullish. He 
said that he had been employed in the Customs 
in Ireland, and was now going to London to live 
by literature. His manners are good, and he 
appears to possess independence of mind." Alling- 
ham did not this time succeed in escaping from 
the counting-house into literature. Rossetti, writing 
from Hastings on May 25th of this same year, 
says : — " I heard from Millais yesterday, who 
tells me Allingham is going back to Ireland and 
the Customs." 


Saturday [probably spring of 1854J. 

Dear Allingham, 

We forgot, I believe, to settle last night 
whether we go to dinner at Mr. Marshall's, 85, 
Eaton Square, at 7 to-morrow. I am going. If 
you do not, will you write to him, or indeed in any 
case. Perhaps we had better go separately to 
avoid trouble in meeting. 

Your D. G. 

In turning your things over, will you keep an 
eye to that lost MS. of mine. 

Let's call together on the Martins soon. 


Note on II. 

" Mr. Marshall was a millionaire from Leeds, 
who had a large estate in Cumberland." Rossetti 
wrote of him on May 15, 1856 : — " He is disposed 
to be very useful to me, I think, in purchasing my 
works, and also in very generously paying for them, 
as he always declares the prices I ask to be trifles." 


Monday, \ past 6 d clock. 

{April, 1 8 54. J 
Dear Allingham, 

I suppose you are gone to bask in the 
Southon [sic] ray. I should follow, but feel very 
sick, and moreover have lunched late to-day with 
Ruskin. We read half the Day and Night Songs 
together, and I gave him the book. He was most 
delighted, and said some of it was heavenly. 

I took Miss S. to Hastings, and Bessie P. 
behaved like a brick. I have told Ruskin of my 
pupil, and he yearneth. Perhaps I may come down 
on Anna Mary to-night, as I believe she leaves 
on Wednesday with Barbara S. I am going now 
to my family, and if you feel inclined to come down 
to 45, Upper A. St., we will go to the Hermitage 
together. Otherwise I am not sure of going. 

Your G. D. R. 


Notes on III. 

On April 14th of this year, a few days before the 
date of this letter, Rossetti wrote to Madox Brown : 
" Mac Cracken sent my drawing \Dante drawing 
an Angel in Memory of Beatrice] to Ruskin, who 
the other day wrote me an incredible letter about 
it, remaining mine respectfully ( ! !), and wanting to 
call. I of course stroked him down in my answer, 
and yesterday he called. His manner was more 
agreeable than I had always expected. ... He 
seems in a mood to make my fortune." 

A few months later Ruskin wrote to Rossetti : 
" I forgot to say also that I really do covet your 
drawings as much as I covet Turner's ; only it is 
useless self-indulgence to buy Turner's, and useful 
self-indulgence to buy yours. Only I won't have 
them after they have been more than nine times 
rubbed entirely out — remember that." 

Miss S. was Miss Siddal, with whom Rossetti 
had fallen in love so early as 1850, though it was 
not till i860 that he married her. His brother has 
told us how her striking face and " coppery -golden 
hair" were discovered, as it were, by Deverell in a 
bonnet-shop. She sat to him, to Holman Hunt, 
and to Millais, but most of all to Rossetti. The 
following account was given me one day as I sat 
in the studio of Mr. Arthur Hughes, surrounded 
by some beautiful sketches he had lately taken on 
the coast of Cornwall : — 

" Deverell accompanied his mother one day to a 
milliner's. Through an open door he saw a girl 


working with her needle ; he got his mother to 
ask her to sit to him. She was the future Mrs. 
Rossetti. Millais painted her for his Ophelia — 
wonderfully like her. She was tall and slender, 
with red coppery hair and bright consumptive 
complexion, though in these early years she had 
no striking signs of ill health. She was exceed- 
ingly quiet, speaking very little. She had read 
Tennyson, having first come to know something 
about him by finding one or two of his poems on 
a piece of paper which she brought home to her 
mother wrapped round a pat of butter. Rossetti 
taught her to draw. She used to be drawing while 
sitting to him. Her drawings were beautiful, but 
without force. They were feminine likenesses of 
his own.'' 

Rossetti's pet names for her were Guggum, 
Guggums, or Gug. A child one day overheard 
him, as he stood before his easel, utter to himself 
over and over again the words, " Guggum, Guggum." 
"All the Ruskins were most delighted with Guggum," 
he wrote. "John Ruskin said she was a noble, 
glorious creature, and his father said by her look 
and manner she might have been a countess." 
Ruskin used to call her Ida. 

Anna Mary was Miss Howitt (afterwards Mrs. 
Howitt-Watts). The Hermitage (Highgate Rise), 
her father's house, was swept away long ago. 

Barbara S. was Barbara Leigh Smith (afterwards 
Madame Bodichon), by whose munificence was laid 
the foundation of Girton College, Cambridge, the 


first institution in which a university education was 
given to women. Rossetti wrote to his sister on 
November 8, 1853 : — "Ah, if you were only like 
Miss Barbara Smith ! a young lady I meet at the 
Howitts', blessed with large rations of tin, fat, 
enthusiasm, and golden hair, who thinks nothing of 
climbing up a mountain in breeches, or wading 
through a stream in none, in the sacred name of 
pigment." " She was a most admirable woman," 
adds Mr. W. M. Rossetti, " full of noble zeal in 
every good cause, and endowed with a fine pictorial 

Bessie P. was Miss Bessie Rayner Parkes, 
.laughter of " Joe " Parkes, whom Carlyle hits off 
in his Reminiscences (vol. i. p. 254), afterwards 
Madame Belloc. In A Passing World she writes : 
--"' Barbara Smith suggested the conception of 
Romola to George Eliot, who has thus sketched 
an immortal [?] portrait of her face and bearing in 
early youth." 

Speaking of Rossetti at the time of his visit to 
Hastings, she says : — " There was about him in his 
youth a singular good breeding, enforced and 
cherished by all the women of his family. ... I 
did not think his wife in the least like 'a countess,' " 
she adds ; " but she had an unworldly simplicity and 
purity of aspect which Rossetti has recorded in his 
pencil drawings of her face. Millais has also given 
this look in his Ophelia, for which she was the 
model. The expression of Beatrice \Beata Beatrix, 
now in the National Gallery] was not hers. . . . She 


had the look of one who read her Bible and said her 
prayers every night, which she probably did." 

In 45, Upper Albany Street (now 166, Albany 
Street), Rossetti's father died. Here the painter, 
on the death of his wife, sought refuge for a time. 


26th April, 1854. 
My dear Allingham, 

We lost my father to-day at |-past 5. He 
had not, I think, felt much pain this day or two, but 
it has been a wearisome, protracted state of dull 
suffering, from which we cannot but feel in some 
sort happy at seeing him released. 

I shall call on you soon, and meanwhile and ever 
am yours sincerely, 

D. G. Rossetti. 

Will you tell Mrs. Howitt, should you see her? 

P.S. I have forgotten two or three times to re- 
mind you of your promise to write a word of 
introduction to Routledge for my cousin, Mr. 
Teodorico Rossetti. 

Would you kindly do so, and send it me ? It 
is merely to say that he has a MS., which he 
wants Routledge to look at, and advise him about, 
and of course buy if it is possible. 


Notes on IV. 

Dante Rossetti, a year before his father's death, 
sketched the old man as he sat at his desk deep 
in study. This striking likeness is reproduced in 
the Letters and Memoir. The son of an Italian 
blacksmith, early in life Gabriel Rossetti showed 
that he had that double gift by which his own son 
was to become famous, The painter's art, how- 
ever, he neglected for poetry. His love of freedom, 
under the despotic Bourbons, brought his life into 
danger. After lying hid in Naples for three 
months of the spring of 1821, he escaped to Malta 
on an English man-of-war. There he was be- 
friended by that witty versifier, Hookham Frere. 
" One of my vivid reminiscences," writes his son 
William, "is of the day when the death of Frere 
was announced to him, in 1846. With tears in 
his half-sightless eyes and the passionate fervour 
of a southern Italian, my father fell on his knees 
and exclaimed, ' Anima bella, benedetta sii tu, 
dovunque sei ! ' (Noble soul, blessed be thou 
wherever thou art !) " He settled in London, 
where he supported himself by teaching Italian. 
With all the fervour of a poet and the enthusiasm 
of an exiled patriot, he was, like Mazzini, a man 
of the strictest conduct. By hard work and thrift, 
aided by an excellent wife, he always kept his 
family in decent comfort, and never owed a penny 
to any man. "He put his heart into whatever 
he did." His learning was great, though his 
application of it was often fanciful. In the litera- 


ture of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance he 
found far deeper meanings than had ever been 
dreamed of bv the authors. As his little son 
looked over the woodcuts of some old volume, 
he would be awed by his father's declaration that 
it was a libro sommamente mistico — a book in the 
highest degree mystical. Freethinker though he 
was, nevertheless " for the moral and spiritual 
aspects of the Christian religion he had the deepest 
respect." In his early years he had been a famous 
improvisatore. Throughout life he was great in 
declamation and recitation. If on one side of his 
character he affected his son by sympathy, on 
another side he no less affected him by a spirit of 
antagonism. Of politics he and his brothers in 
exile talked far too much for the young painter. 
Of gli Austriaci (the Austrians) and Luigi Filippo 
(Louis Philippe) Dante Rossetti heard so much in 
his youth that he seems to have registered a vow 
" that he, at least, would leave Luigi Filippo and 
the other potentates of Europe and their ministers 
to take care of themselves." At all events, for 
the whole of his life, as regards current politics, 
he was a second Gallio — he cared for none of those 

The old man bore his banishment the more 
easily "as he liked most things English — the 
national and individual liberty, the constitution, 
the people and their moral tone — though the 
British leaven of social Toryism was far from 
being to his taste. He also took very kindly to 


the English coal fires. He would jocularly speak 
of ' buying his climate at the coal merchant's.' " 
Paralysis struck him in his closing years. Never- 
theless, "he continued diligent in reading and 
writing almost to the last day of his life. His 
sufferings (often severe) were borne with patience 
and courage (he had an ample stock of both 
qualities), though not with that unemotional calm 
which would have been foreign to his Italian nature. 
He died firm-minded and placid, and glad to be 
released, in the presence of all his family." 

" Teodorico (or properly, Teodoro) Pietrocola," 
writes Mr. W. M. Rossetti, " who adopted the 
compound surname of Pietrocola- Rossetti, came to 
London in 1851, hoping to find an opening of 
some kind ; but found nothing except semi-starva- 
tion, which he bore with a cheerful constancy 
touching to witness. In 1856 he returned to Italy, 
and later on devoted himself to preaching evan- 
gelical Christianity, somewhat of the Vaudois type, 
in Florence and elsewhere." One of his disciples 
was Miss Francesca Alexander, who in her turn 
had a great influence on Mr. Ruskin. " It is 
hardly too much to say (writes Mr. W. G. Colling- 
wood in his Life of Ruskin) that T. P. Rossetti 
did for evangelical religion in Italy what Gabriel 
Rossetti did for poetical art in England : he showed 
the path to sincerity and simplicity. And Mr. 
Ruskin, who had been driven away from Protes- 
tantism by the Waldensian at Turin, and had 
wandered through many realms of doubt, and 


voyaged through strange seas of thought alone, 
found harbour at last with the disciple of a modern 
evangelist, the frequenter of the poor little meeting- 
house of outcast Italian Protestants," 


Tuesday \May 2, 18 54 J. 
My dear Allingham, 

I have heard from Miss Smith from near 
Hastings to-day about Miss Siddal, who, she seems 
to think, is worse, and she encloses a letter from 
Miss Parkes also tending to make me very uneasy. 
However, I have one of Lizzy's own (29th April, 
Miss Smith's being 1st May), which speaks of no 
change for the worse, so that I hope it may be a 
mistake. I shall go down to Hastings to-morrow 
after my father's funeral if possible, and should go 
to-day but for that. If, however, I should be quite 
unable to go to-morrow, I shall go Thursday. 
There seems to be some talk of getting her 
into a Sussex hospital till she can enter the 

I have called because I wish you would get those 
wood-blocks (at any rate 2 or 3) sent by Routledge 
at once, if possible, to 45, Upper Albany Street. 
If they come in time I will take them to Hastings, 


otherwise they can be sent after me. I have made 
a sketch for one, and must set about them and 
other slight things to raise tin. You may depend 
on my stopping the 30s. you lent me out of the 
first money for you. I am sorry to have broken 
my promise last week, but will redeem it very soon. 
I may perhaps call here again after going some- 
where else now. But write lest I should not be 

Your D. G. R. 

Note on V. 

The wood-blocks were .for illustrations of Ailing- 
ham's forthcoming Day and Night Songs. 


Saturday [May, 1854J. 
My dear Allingham, 

Feeling very anxious about poor Miss 
Siddal I have just written to Wilkinson, begging 
him either to write to me on the subject or appoint 
an interview at his house, Tuesday or any day 
after Wednesday. I write this in case I should 
not see you to-day, as I hope I shall be in till 
6 or so, and almost sure to dine at the [letter 


In case W. should appoint Thursday and so 
prevent our sitting, I am sure you will excuse 
and fix another. 

Your D. G. R. 

Note on VI. 

For an account of Dr. Wilkinson see note on 
Letter XLVII. 


5, High Street, Hastings, 

[May, 1 854. J 
My dear Allingham, 

I got here on Wednesday night, and am 
glad to tell you that I do not find Miss Siddal 
worse, either by her own account or in appearance. 
I should judge her, indeed, to be rather better, and 
she thinks so herself. Before leaving town I saw 
Wilkinson, who gave hie some more powders for 
her, as well as the address of a Dr. Haile here, to 
whom he has also written about her. He thinks it 
very unadvisable that she should go into the Sussex 
Infirmary, or be shut up at all just now. I have 
written to him a minute account of her state from 
her own lips. Barbara and Anna Mary came over 
yesterday, and walked some time with us ; and 
Lizzy did not seem overfatigued. Several ladies 


here are very attentive to her, and seem quite fond 
of her. Her spirits are much better, and some of 
her worst symptoms have abated. 

I trust the glorious weather which seems setting 
in now will do everything for her. If you have 
any thoughts of a trip just now come here. I 
am going with Miss S. to-morrow to spend the 
day at Roberts Bridge, some miles hence, where 
Barbara Smith is. 

Thanks for the wood-blocks which I have brought 
with me. I fear neither is large enough for the 
sketch I have made ; but no doubt they will do 
for some of them. Routledge's prescribed size will 
admit of a rather larger block. I find Miss Siddal 
has made a sketch from Clerk Saunders, which 
promises to be beautiful when drawn on the wood. 
You shall hear again soon, if I stay here any 

On the day of my father's funeral (at Highgate 
Cemetery) I heard from Ruskin. . . . He is leaving 
town till August about, and says he has given 
orders for all his works to be sent to me, so 1 
suppose they are at my rooms now. He asks me 
to correspond with him, which I shall try to do. 

Do you still dine at the Belle pas Sauvage ? 
I shall have no chance against you now any 
more. Write soon. 

D. G. R. 


Thanks for what you say of the 30s. which I 
hope soon to send. Routledge, I suppose, will 
pay eventually for the blocks — otherwise I, and 
not you, ought to pay. 

Notes on VII. 

The first reference to Miss Siddal's ill-health Mr. 
W. M. Rossetti finds in a letter dated August 25, 
1853. "The consumptive turn of her constitution 
became apparent ; and from this time forth the 
letters about her are shadowed with sorrow which 
often deepens almost into despair." 

Miss Smith lived at Scalands near Robertsbridgre. 
William Howitt, who was a guest there in April, 1 S64, 
thus describes the place : — " The country is a hop- 
growing one, and is pleasantly diversified with hill, 
dale, and woods. The house stands on a hill in 
the midst of one of these woods. In the openings 
are various kennels of pointers, retrievers, and 
beagles, which are used in the shooting-season 
by Madame Bodichon's brothers. They give us 
plenty of dog-music. This property is three miles 
long, so we can range about without fear of 

Madame Bodichon used to tell how Rossetti, 
noticing the ost-houses (the kilns in which the 
hops are dried) each with its tapering roof and 
vane at the top, innocently remarked, •• What a 
devout people they seem to be, with a chapel to 
every farm-house ! " 

Writing to his brother during this visit he 


described Scalands as "a stunning crib, but rather 

In another letter he says : — " Miss Smith has 
lent me Ruskin's Lectures, where there is only a 
slight, though very friendly mention of me." In 
the Addenda to the Lectures on Architecture and 
Painting Ruskin mentions him twice as follows : — 
" Not only can all the members of the [Prse- 
raphaelite] school compose a thousand times better 
than the men who pretend to look down upon 
them, but I question whether even the greatest 
men of old times possessed more exhaustless in- 
vention than either Millais or Rossetti. ... As 
I was copying this sentence a pamphlet was put 
into my hand, written by a clergyman, denouncing 
' Woe, woe, woe ! to exceedingly young men of 
stubborn instincts, calling themselves Praeraphaelites.' 
I thank God that the Praeraphaelites are young, 
and that strength is still with them, and life, with 
all the war of it, still in front of them. Yet Everett 
Millais is this year of the exact age at which 
Raphael painted the Disputa, his greatest work ; 
Rossetti and Hunt are both of them older still, 
nor is there one member of the body so young 
as Giotto, when he was chosen from among the 
painters of Italy to decorate the Vatican. But 
Italy, in her great period, knew her great men 
and did not 'despise their youth.' It is reserved 
for England to insult the strength of her noblest 
children — to wither their enthusiasm early into the 
bitterness of patient battle, and leave to those whom 


she should have cherished and aided no hope but in 
revolution, no refuge but in disdain." 

" The Belle pas Sauvage " I shall explain in a 
note on Letter IX. 


5, High Street, Hastings, 

Friday [May, 18 54 J. 
My dear Allingham, 

A little note of yours inviting me to 
breakfast on Tuesday last has just been sent on 
to me here. I hope to be in London again soon, 
though probably not to stay long, but must get 
my things together and replenish my colour box, 
&c. Hitherto I have been disgracefully idle here 
— poor Miss Siddal even has done better than I 
have, and I have no doubt when I come to town 
I shall bring with me a wood-block which she 
has begun beautifully. Her health varies a little, 
but I think not very materially — in some things 
she is better. Miss Smith continues to suggest 
kind plans for her benefit, and has lately hit on 
one which seems promising in some respects, of 
which I can tell you when I see you, which I 
shall do as soon as I reach London again. Lizzy 
and I have been twice to a farm of Miss Smith's 



near here, which is a stunning place. Miss S. as 
well as Miss Howitt have left here, and will both 
soon be in London again. 

.... I am melancholy enough here sometimes, 
and shall be glad to discuss our concerns with you 
in London as soon as possible. Lizzy is a sweet 
companion, but the fdar which the constant sight 
of her varying state suggests is much less pleasant 
to live with. She has just come in to breakfast. 

Yours most sincerely, 

D. G. Rossetti. 

P.S. — Calder Campbell, who wrote to me the 
other day, begged me to say to you that he had 
called twice, once at Southampton Row and once 
at Queen Square, but in neither case had been 
able to make any one hear or come to the door. 
His number in University Street is 27. I believe 
he leaves town very soon. 

Notes on VIII. 

Rossetti's colour-box had to be replenished, as 
one of his letters shows, before he began Found 
on the canvas — that picture which he never lived 
to finish, though his life was prolonged for nearly 
thirty more years. 

The plan of " the indefatigable and active 
Barbara " was for Miss Siddal's entering the Sana- 
torium in Harley Street, New Road, London, 


"where governesses and ladies of small means are 
taken in and cured." Miss Smith's relative "con- 
nected with the management of this place " was, 
Mr. W. M. Rossetti says, probably Miss Night- 
ingale, who towards the close of the year was to 
set out for the Crimea. 

" As my brother was growing up towards man- 
hood," writes Mr. Rossetti "he became acquainted 
with Major Calder Campbell, an officer retired 
from the Indian army, and a rather prolific pro- 
ducer of verses and tales in annuals and magazines ; 
an eminently amiable and kindly elderly bachelor, 
gossipy, and a little scandal-loving, who conceived 
a very high idea of my brother's powers. He 
must, I think, have been the first literary man 
familiar with the ups and clowns of London pub- 
lishing whom Rossetti knew. For a year or two 
my brother and I had an appointed weekly evening 
when we called upon Major Campbell in his quiet 
lodgings in University Street, Tottenham Court 



Monday, 26 June, 1854. 
My dear Allingham, 

I am here again you see, but return 
immediately to London ; so when you write again, 


write thither (Chatham Place). I shall not fail to 
keep up our correspondence. Miss S. returns with 
me for the present, till she can get her picture 
en train at any rate. I think she has certainly 
benefited a good deal by her stay in Hastings, 
and has done some more sketches from the ballads. 
She desires particularly to be remembered to you, 
and did so- several times when writing to me in 
London, which I always forgot to convey. 

I should certainly have seen you in town before 
your exodus, if I had known in time. As it was, 
I only heard of your change of plan on Saturday 
evening at Munro's. The day before, perhaps, 
you heard that I called on you with the mighty 
Mac Cracken, who was in town for a few days, 
but we did not find you. What do you think of 
Mac coming to town on purpose to sell his Hunt, 
his Millais, his Brown, his Hughes, and several 
other pictures ! He squeezed my arm with some 
pathos on communicating his purpose, and added 
that he should part with neither of mine. Full 
well he knows that the time to sell them is not 
come yet. The Brown he sold privately to White 
of Maddox Street. The rest he put into a sale 
at Christie's, after taking my advice as to the 
reserve he ought to put on the Hunt, which I fixed 
at 500 gs. It reached 300 in real biddings, after 
which Mac's touters ran it up to 430, trying to 


revive it, but of course it remains with him. The 
Millais did not reach his reserve, either, but 
he afterwards exchanged it with White for a 
small Turner. The Hughes sold for 67 gs., which 
really, though by no means a large price for it, 
surprised me, considering that the people in the 
sale-room must have heard of Hughes for the 
first time, though the auctioneer unblushingly 
described him as " a great artist, though a young 
one." I have no doubt, if Mac had put his 
pictures into the sale in good time, instead of 
adding them on at the last moment, they would 
all have gone at excellent prices. 

Some of the pictures in the body of the sale 
went tremendously. Goodall's daub of Raising 
the May- Pole fetched (at least ostensibly) 850. I 
like Mac Crac pretty well enough, but he is quite 
different in appearance — of course — from my idea 
of him. My stern treatment of him was untem- 
pered by even a moment's weakness. I told him 
I had nothing whatever to show him, and that 
his picture was not begun, which placed us at 
once on a perfect understanding. He seems 
hard up. 

If I were to send you one of those Australian 
paragraphs about Woolner and the statue do you 
think you could get it in anywhere with or with- 
out a short accessory) puff of your own ? Millais 


and I have both besieged Eastlake, and Millais 
and Dickinson Mulready. Dyce will be written 
to by one of us. Hannay is going to get a 
paragraph in somewhere, and I think of trying 
for the same sort of thing with Masson and 
Patmore, or any one else who seems likely. 
Hannay was in town the other day, and I am 
going down to Barnet on Friday to see him, and 
take a walk to Saint Albans. He is looking much 
better than I have seen him look for a year or 
two, and had just parted with the copyright of 
his Lectures to Bogue for 50 in addition to the 
50 he got first. 

I hope my next letter will have more news and 
be a longer one. There are dense fogs of heat 
here now, through which sea and sky loom as 
one wall, with the webbed craft creeping on it 
like flies, or standing there as if they would drop 
off dead. I wander over the baked cliffs, seeking 
rest and finding none. And it will be even worse 
in London. I shall become like the Messer 
Brunetto of the "cotto aspetto," which, by the 
bye, Carlyle bestows upon Sordello instead ! It 
is doing him almost as shabby a turn as 

The crier is just going up this street and moan- 
ing out notices of sale. Why cannot one put all 
one's plagues and the skeletons of one's house 


into his hands, and tell them and sell them 
" without reserve " ? Perhaps they would suit 
somebody at least except this horrid fork of a 
pen ! I went to the Belle S. the other clay, and 
was smiled on by the cordial stunner, who came 
in on purpose in a lilac walking costume. / am 
quite certain she does not regret you at all. 

Your D. G. R. 

[On the envelope.] 
P.S. — Nous pouvons vous envoyer L' Athenaeum 
chaque semaine, si vous voulez. Soyez certain 
qu'une certaine petite affaire de £ s. d. n'est pas 

Notes on IX. 

Of White the picture-dealer Mado.v Brown has 
the following entries in his diary : " /any. 27, 1856. 
On Monday White called, but did not like the Hay- 
field — said the hay was pink, and he had never seen 
such. — Thursday. After much moaning over my 
brick-dusty colour he took off King Lear for ^20. 
— March 6. Called on Gabriel. I saw a lot of his 
works gathered there from Ruskin's and others, as a 
bait to induce Old White to come and buy his works." 

Rossetti's humorous sallies against Francis 
MacCracken must not be taken too seriously. 
" He really liked him," says Mr. W. M. Rossetti, 
"and had reason for doing- so." This Belfast 
shipping-agent " was a profound believer in the 


'graduate,' as he termed Ruskin. He was always 
hard up for money, but he was devoted to Prse- 
raphaelitism." In 1852 he bought Madox Brown's 
Wickliffe, giving for it £63 together with a picture 
by Dighton, " which," says Brown, " I sold for 
£S 1 os." 

The following letter with which Mr. Holman 
Hunt has honoured me gives an account of his 
doings with MacCracken. 

Draycott Lodge, Fulham, 
February 27, 1896. 
Dear Mr. Birkbeck Hill, 

I trust that I am not now too late — 
although so very much so, owing to a variety of 
causes — in giving you the information you desired. 
The only picture that Mr. MacCracken bought of 
me was The Two Gentlemen of Verona. It was 
painted in 1850-51, and was assailed by the critics 
in the R.A., together with works by Millais, in the 
most violent manner, until Ruskin came forward 
quite unexpectedly and assailed the critics, to the 
lasting confusion of one or two of the craft. The 
picture did not, however, sell in London, and I 
sent it to Liverpool, when again it was attacked 
most acrimoniously ; but the committee of the 
exhibition, to my surprise, ended by giving me 
the ^50 prize awarded to the best picture in the 
exhibition, and yet it did not sell there ; but from 
Belfast Mr. MacC. wrote, saying he very much 
wanted to get to Liverpool to see it. He could 


not, however, get away, and at last asked whether 
I would take a painting by young Danby as pay- 
ment for ,£50 or ^"60 of the price, which was, I 
think, ^157. (It might, however, have been 200 
guineas.) Eventually I agreed, and he paid me the 
money, part in installments of ,£10 at the time. 

The picture was bought at Christie's by Sir T. 
Fairbairn for 500 guineas, and he sold it about 
eight years since for ,£1,000 to the Birmingham Art 
Gallery, where it now is. 

I am yours ever truly, 

W. Holman Hunt. 

MacCracken, as will be seen later on, made 
another attempt to sell the picture, but in vain. 
The day of the great Praeraphaelite painter was 
still in its dawn. It was, no doubt, some years 
later that Sir T. Fairbairn made his purchase. 

Mr. Hunt, speaking of the sale of this picture in 
the Contemporary Review for May, 1886, says: — 
" When the dates for payment came, a letter invari- 
ably arrived proposing to give instead of money 
further paintings, so that the transaction became a 
continual torment to me." 

From Rossetti MacCracken bought the Eccc 
A 11c ilia Domini, which had been exhibited three 
years earlier, and had been returned unsold. Its 
price was only ^50. In 1886 it was added to the 
London National Gallery at the cost of ^840. For 
Mr. Arthur Hughes's Ophelia he had undertaken to 
give sixty guineas. He gave in reality thirty 


guineas and two small pictures by Wilson, a 
painter at that time of no account, though highly 
esteemed now. Unfortunately, the young Prae- 
raphaelite could not bide his time, and had to 
turn his pictures into cash. Being sent to the 
leading art auctioneers, they were sold for five 
pounds. At Ophelia Mr. Hughes had been long 
working, when one day Alexander Munro, a young 
sculptor, burst into his studio, with most of the 
Prseraphaelites at his back. Deverell found fault 
with a bat flying across the stream, but Rossetti 
warmly defended it, as " one of the finest things 
in the picture." " He always was," Mr. Hughes 
tells me, " most generous in his admiration ; any- 
thing that he did not like he hated as heartily. 
His manners were fascinating, enthusiastic, and 

" I remember," writes Mrs. Howitt, " one of the 
most distinguished [of the P.R.B.] asking us, as he 
had no banker, to cash a cheque for ^14, given him 
by a Manchester gentleman for a small oil-painting." 

Madox Brown, writing, of the Academy of 1851, 
says : — " Goodall is excessive in all that is low and 
to the public taste." 

For " Woolner and the statue " see a note on the 
next letter. 

"James Hannay," writes Mr. W. M. Rossetti, 
" was a bright and cherished figure in the literary 
Bohemia of those days ; my brother and I had 
known him since 1850 or earlier. He was in early 
youth a naval officer ; but, while still young, he took 


to authorship, and published various sketches and 
novels connected with sea-life. He was busy with 
reviewing, comic writing, and journalism ; a fluent, 
witty, and telling speaker in private and in public, 
taking with great zest, as the years lapsed, to what- 
soever savoured of High Toryism, whether in 
politics or in the minor matters of genealogy and 
heraldry. Ultimately he obtained an appointment 
as British Consul in Barcelona ; and there he died, 
in middle age, very suddenly, in 1873." 

Coventry Patmore, speaking of Rossetti's " extra- 
ordinary faculty for seeing objects in such a fierce 
light of imagination as very few poets have been 
able to throw upon external things," continues : — 
"He can be forgiven for spoiling a tender lyric 
by a stanza such as this, which seems scratched 
with an adamantine pen upon a slab of agate: — 

' But the sea stands spread 
As one wall with the flat skies, 
Where the lean black craft, like flies, 

Seem well-nigh stagnated, 

Soon to drop off dead.' " 

This stanza of Even So finds its first sketch — by no 
means a rough one — in Rossetti's description of the 
" dense fogs of heat " at Hastings. 

Carlyle, in his third lecture on Heroes and Hero- 
Worship, spoke of " that poor Sordello with the 
cotto aspetto, 'face baked,' referring to a celebrated 
passage in Dante's Inferno (canto xv. line 26). It 
was not Sordello, but Brunetti Latini whom the poet 
described. This error ran through the early editions 


of the Lectures, but was corrected in the later. Mr. 
W. M. Rossetti tells me that " the suggestion that 
Browning did a shabby turn to Sordello by writing 
the poem is of course mere chaff; for Rossetti, in 
all those years, half worshipped the poem, and 
thrust it down everybody's throat." 

He used often to dine at the Bell Savage Inn on 
Ludgate Hill. "As for the Bell Savage," writes 
Addison in the Spectator, No. 28, "which is the 
sign of a savage man standing by a bell, I was 
formerly very much puzzled upon the conceit of it, 
till I accidentally fell into the reading of an old 
romance translated out of the French ; which gives 
an account of a very beautiful woman who was 
found in a wilderness, and is called in the French 
La Belle Sativage ■ and is everywhere translated by 
our countrymen the Bell Savage." By Pennant's 
time the sign was disused. Mr. W. M. Rossetti 
has no doubt that "the cordial stunner" was a 
waitress with whom his brother had an innocent 
flirtation. " In these early days," writes Mr. 
Holman Hunt, " with all his headstrongness and a 
certain want of consideration, Rossetti's life within 
was untainted to an exemplary degree, and he 
worthily rejoiced in the poetic atmosphere of the 
sacred and spiritual dreams that then encircled 
him, however some of his noisy demonstrations at 
the time might hinder this from being recognised 
by a hasty judgment." 



Szmday [Endorsed July 24, 1 854 J. 
Dear Allingham, 

I have been waiting to write until I could 
see Cayley who has my MS. translations (i.e., such 
as are copied of them — cetera desunt, that is, are 
not decent), in order that I might send them on to 
you at the same time as this letter. Not that my 
writing now implies that 1 have had vision of 
Cayley (a fair type of Divine Comedy)— of course 
you can guess that — but merely that every day 
after dinner it has seemed a very long way from 
the B. S. to Chancery Lane, and that my interview 
with the great unshaved seeming no nearer, I may 
as well write at once, trusting very soon neverthe- 
less to get hold of the Poems and send them, as I 
should much like to have your dictum, and espe- 
cially any suggestions of yours, which I wish you 
would mark on the margin, regardless of the original 
Italian, as I can always compare what you suggest 
with that, and see if it be compatible. I am still 
hoping to get them out as soon as possible, and 
think I should include the Vita Nuova of Dante, 
which I translated some 5 years ago, and which 
would only want some revision. Title perhaps 
thus : Italian Lyrical Poetry of the First Epoch 
from Ci u Ho d'Alcamo to D. Alighieri (1 197-1300) ; 


translated in the original metres, including Dante's 
Vita Nuova or autobiography of his youth. 

Can you think of any better title ? or is this too 
long ? 

Maclennan (whom you once met at my rooms) 
visited Cambridge with my brother the other day, 
and at some gathering there they met Macmillan, 
the publisher, to whom Maclennan spoke of my 
translations, which he expressed every good dispo- 
sition to publish. He also said he had some time 
been wishing to propose to Millais, Hunt, and me 
to illustrate a Life of Christ. 

My original poems are all (or all the best) in an 
aboriginal state, being beginnings, though some of 
them very long beginnings, and not one, I think, 
fairly copied. Moreover, I am always hoping to 
finish those I like, and know they would have no 
chance if shown to you unfinished, as I am sure 
they would not please you in that state, and then 
I should feel disgusted with them. This is the 
sheer truth. Of short pieces I have seldom or 
never done anything tolerable, except perhaps 
sonnets ; but if I can find any which I think in 
any sense legible, I will send them with the 
translations. I wish, if you write anything you 
care to show, you would reciprocate, as you may 
be sure I care to see. As a grand installment I 
send you the Mac Crac sonnet : it hangs over him 


as yet like the sword of Damocles. I dare say 

you remember Tennyson's sonnet, The Kraken: 

it is in the MS. book of mine you have by you, — 

so compare. 


Getting his pictures, like his supper, cheap, 

Far, far away in Belfast by the sea, 

His scaly, one-eyed, uninvaded sleep 

Mac Cracken sleepeth. While the P. R. B. 

Must keep the shady side, he walks a swell 

Through spungings of perennial growth and height ; 

And far away in Belfast out of sight, 

By many an open do and secret sell 

Fresh daubers he makes shift to scarify, 

And fleece with pliant sheers the slumb'ring green. 

There he has lied, though aged, and will lie, 

Fattening on ill-got pictures in his sleep, 

Till some Pre-Raphael prove for him too deep. 

Then once by Hunt and Ruskin to be seen 

Insolvent he shall turn, and in the Queen's Bench die. 

You'll find it very close to the original — as well as 
to fact. 

I'll add my last sonnet, made two days ago, 
though at the risk of seeming trivial after the stern 
reality of the above : — 

As when two men have loved a woman well, 

Each hating each ; and all in all, deceit ; 

Since not for either this straight marriage-sheet 
And the long pauses of this wedding-bell ; 
But o'er her grave, the night and day dispel 

At last their feud forlorn, with cold and heat ; 

Nor other than dear friends to death may fleet 
The two lives left which most of her can tell : 
So separate hopes, that in a soul had wooed 


The one same Peace, strove with each other long ; 
And Peace before their faces, perish'd since ; 
So from that soul, in mindful brotherhood, 

(When silence may not be) sometimes they throng 
Through high-streets and at many dusty inns. 

But my sonnets are not generally finished till I 
see them again after forgetting them, and this is 
only 2 days old. 

But now about friends. Outside your letter you 
tell me to tell you something of Woolner, and I 
cannot recollect whether I mentioned to you that 
he had written up \_sic~\ touching a statue for which 
he was competing there, or rather which he stood 
every chance of getting without competition, until 
the people determined to ask Eastlake, Dyce, and 
Mulready about his competency. I have been to 
Eastlake to see about it, and Millais has written 
to all three. Between us I think Eastlake is safe, 
Mulready has not answered either Millais or 
Dickinson, who also wrote (but he knew Woolner 
in England, and I know liked him personally, 
though I do not think he ever saw any work of 
his) ; and Dyce has answered Millais that he can- 
not remember W.'s works but wants to see some. 
The Wordsworth group is therefore going to be 
sent to the Royal Academy, that Dyce may see it 
there. Dyce and Eastlake were both among those 
members of the Committee who were named in that 
letter which Woolner got on the occasion of the 


Wordsworth job, as having stuck out to the last 
in favour of W.'s model ; but it is very possible 
they did not know his name, as I suppose the 
competition was anonymous. Thus far as yet 
about this. Woolner is very probably now on his 
way to England. I will send you his letter, if you 
write me that you did not see it, of which I am 

Hunt has written Millais another letter at last ; 
the first since his second to me, months ago. It 
was sent to me by M., but I had to send it on to 
Lear, or would have let you have it, as it is full 
of curious depths and difficulties in style and 
matter, and contains an account of his penetrating 
to the central chamber of the Pyramids. He is at 
Jerusalem now, where he has taken a house, and 
seems in great ravishment, so I suppose he is not 
likely to be back yet. Have you seen the lying 
dullness of that ass Waagen, anent the Light of 
the World, in Times last week? There is a still 
more incredible paragraph, amounting to blas- 
phemy, in yesterday's Atkenmum, which you will 
see soon. I hope you got the last one. 

I spent two or three days at Ridge, near Barnet, 
with Hannay lately, where he is staying at his 
father's, and will remain probably for some months. 
His babe has grown quite beautiful, and I saw 
him put in a tub in a very vigorous state. Hannay 



and I walked to St. Albans, and saw Bacon's tomb, 
the ■ Cathedral, &c. We purported writing to you 
jointly thence after dinner, but somehow out of the 
fulness of the stomach the speech wouldn't come. 
Satire and Satirists is out. 

I hav'n't seen much lately of Munro, but hope 
he will come to-morrow evening when Collins and 
Stephens are to come too. I wish you had met 

Hughes, I think, is in the country again — at 
Burnham. What a capital sketch of one, though 
not the best of , your face's phases, Hughes did 
before you left ! I suppose it must supersede, for 
posterity, that railway portrait, which was so 
decidedly en train. I trust certainly to join Hughes 
in at any rate one of the illustrations of Day and 
Night Songs, of which I hope his and mine will 
be worthy — else there is nothing so much spoils 
a good book as an attempt to embody its ideas, 
only going halfway. Is Saint Margaret's Eve to be 
in ? That would be illustratable. By the bye, 
Miss S. has made a splendid design from that 
Sister Helen of mine. Those she did at Hastings 
for the old ballads illustrate The Lass of Lochryan 
and The Gay Goss Hawk, but they are only first 
sketches. As to all you say about her and the 
hospital, etc., I think just at present, at any rate, 
she had better keep out, as she has made a design 

(By Arthur Hughes.) 

[Tofaupage 3.4. 


which is practicable for her to paint quietly at my 
rooms, having convinced herself that nothing which 
involved her moving constantly from place to place 
is possible at present. She will begin it now at 
once, and try at least whether it is possible to carry 
it on without increased danger to her health. The 
subject is the Nativity, designed in a most lovely 
and original way. For my own part, the more I 
think of the B.H. [Brompton Hospital] for her, the 
more I become convinced that when left there to 
brood over her inactivity, with images of disease 
and perhaps death on every side, she could not but 
feel very desolate and miserable. If it seemed at 
this moment urgently necessary that she should go 
there, the matter would be different ; but Wilkinson 
says that he considers her better. I wish, and she 
wishes, that something should be done by her to 
make a beginning, and set her mind a little at ease 
about her pursuit of art, and we both think that 
this more than anything would be likely to have 
a good effect on her health. It seems hard to me 
when I look at her sometimes, working or too ill to 
work, and think how many without one tithe of her 
genius or greatness of spirit have granted them 
abundant health and opportunity to labour through 
the little they can do or will do, while perhaps her 
soul is never to bloom nor her bright hair to fade, 
but after hardly escaping from degradation and 


corruption, all she might have been must sink out 
again unprofitably in that dark house where she 
was born. How truly she may say, "No man 
cared for my soul." I do not mean to make myself 
an exception, for how long I have known her, and 
not thought of this till so late — perhaps too late. 
But it is no use writing more about this subject ; 
and I fear, too, my writing at all about it must 
prevent your easily believing it to be, as it is, by 
far the nearest thing to my heart. 

I will write you something of my own doings 
soon, I hope ; at present I could only speak of 
discomfitures. About the publication of the ballads, 
or indeed of your songs either, it has occurred to 
me we might reckon Macmillan as one possible 
string to the bow. Smith ought to be bowstrung 
himself, or hamstrung, or something, for fighting 
shy of so much honour. By the bye, I turned up 
the other day, at my rooms, that copy of Routledge's 
poets which you brought as a specimen. Ought 
I to send it back? Good-morning. 1 

Your D. G. Rossetti. 

P.S. — I hav'n't seen the Howitts very lately, 
but A. M. [Anna Mary] is very busy, I know. 
I shall get there soon. She has the Folio, which 
is beginning to circulate. 

P. P.S. — Write soon and I'll answer soon. 
1 He had at first written " good-night." 


Notes on X; 

Charles Bagot Cayley, translator of Dante and 
Petrarch, sat for the fifth head on the left (omitting 
Judas) in Madox Brown's picture of Christ washing 
Peters Feet. Mr. W. M. Rossetti describes him as 
" the most modest, retiring, and shyly taciturn man 
of noticeable talent whom it has ever been my 
fortune to meet." He was for some years in the 
Patent Office in Chancery Lane. Rossetti must 
have dined well if the distance thither from the Bell 
Savage seemed very long. 

John Ferguson Maclennan is known by his work 
on Primitive Marriage. 

Rossetti was obliged to wait seven years longer 
before he could find a publisher for his poems. 
John Sterling, writing to Emerson on December 
28, 1 84 1, mentions "the singular fact, I believe, 
quite unexampled in England for three hundred 
years, that there is no man living among us — 
literally, I believe, not one — under the age of fifty, 
whose verses will pay the expense of publication." 
Browning, when Sterling wrote, was twenty-nine 
years old, Tennyson thirty-two, and Henry Taylor 

The following is Tennyson's sonnet so humorously 
parodied by Rossetti. 


Below the thunders of the upper deep ; 
Far, far beneath in the abysmal sea, 
His ancient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep 


The Kraken sleepeth : faintest sunlights flee 

About his shadowy sides : above him swell 

Huge sponges of millennial growth and height : 

And far away into the sickly light, 

From many a wondrous grot and secret cell 

Unnumber'd and enormous polypi 

Winnow with giant arms the slumbering green. 

There hath he lain for ages and will lie 

Battening upon huge seaworms in his sleep, 

Until the latter fire shall heat the deep ; 

Then once by man and angels to be seen, 

In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die. 

The sonnet which Rossetti " made two days ago " 
he gave himself time to forget again and again, for 
it was not published till 1881. Under the title of 
Lost on Both Sides it forms Sonnet XCI, of Ballads 
and Sonnets, in the following version : 

As when two men have loved a woman well, 

Each hating each, through Love's and Death's deceit ; 

Since not for either this stark marriage-sheet 
And the long pauses of this wedding-bell ; 
Yet o'er her grave the night and day dispel 

At last their feud forlorn, with cold and heat ; 

Nor other than dear friends to death may fleet 
The two lives left that most of her can tell : 
So separate hopes, which in a soul had wooed 

The one same Peace, strove with each other long, 

And Peace before their faces perished since : 
So through that soul, in restless brotherhood, 

They roam together now, and wind among 

Its by-streets, knocking at the dusty inns. 

Rossetti wrote to W. B. Scott on a Tuesday in 
1852: — "I saw Woolner on board the vessel on 
Thursday. He is accompanied by Bernhard Smith 
and Bateman, and all of them plentifully stocked 


with corduroys, sou'-westers, jerseys, firearms, and 
belts full of little bags to hold the expected nuggets. 
Hunt, William, and myself, deposited them in 
their four months' home with a due mixture of 
solemnity and joviality. All his friends con- 
gratulate him on the move, with the sole exception 
of Carlyle, who seems to espy in it some savour of" 
the mammon of unrighteousness. Tennyson was 
especially encouraging. The great Alfred even 
declares that were it not for Mrs. T., he should 
go himself. His expectations seem, however, to be 
rather poetical, as he gravely asked Woolner ' if 
he expected to come back with ,£10,000 a year.'" 
Later on Rossetti wrote : — " After seven months' 
digging they gave it up as a losing game ; having 
made £"50 worth of gold apiece, and spent each 
about ^90." Woolner soon found work as a 
sculptor at Melbourne, where he did several 
medallions at £"25 each. On his coming back to 
England he wrote to W. B. Scott on October 23, 
1854 : — " I should not have returned so soon, had 
I not returned to look after a statue of Mr. 
Wentworth, to be put up to his glory in Sydney. 
I am not sure of getting it now, after coming all 
this way. I saw Carlyle the other evening, who 
congratulated me on not being successful in my gold- 
seeking. In this, as in everything, how different 
are his opinions from the world's ! " In May, 1855, 
Woolner wrote : — " Concerning Wentworth's statue, 
which brought me home, it has turned out a failure. 
Wentworth has resolved on founding a fellowship 


at the Sydney University with the money instead. 
This is at least fifteen hundred out of my pocket, 
coming back to England when I did. It was the 
only chance I ever had of making money." 

A subscription of .£2,000 had been raised for a 
statue to William Charles Wentworth, the foremost 
statesman of his time in New South Wales. His 
bust by Woolner was exhibited in the Royal 
Academy in 1856. 

Mr. W. M. Rossetti wrote to W. Allingham on 
March 21, 1851 : — "Woolner has a monument to 
do for Wordsworth's tomb." Mr. Rossetti tells me 
" that the group represented the poet seated in the 
centre ; on one side of him a man controlling a 
refractory boy ; on the other side, as a representa- 
tion of the transition from the worship of nature to 
the worship of God, a girl holding a flower with a 
woman by her side directing her thoughts from it to 
the heaven above : Carlyle and Tennyson thought 
highly of it." The disappointment which followed 
on the rejection of the design had much to do in 
sending Woolner to Australia. In the words of 
Madox Brown, " He went to the gold-diggings 
hoping to amass millions to carry on his art." 

He was elected an Associate of the Royal 
Academy in 1871, and a full Academician in 
1874. He died, a wealthy man, on October 7, 
1892 ; part of his fortune he had made by judicious 
purchases of pictures. 

Lear was Edward Lear, the author of The Book 
of Nonsense. 


Thomas Seddon wrote from Egypt (no date 
given) : — " Old Hunt came to join me yesterday, 
for I have spent the principal part of the last two 
months in a tomb, just at the back of the Sphinx, 
away from all the petty evening bustle of an hotel. 
We began in a tent, but a week's experience showed 
that the tomb possessed in comfort what it lost in 
picturesqueness. It is a spacious apartment, 25 
feet by 14 feet, and about 6 feet high. My end 
is matted, and I recline, dine, and sleep on a sump- 
tuous divan consisting of a pair of iron trestles with 
two soft boards laid across them. Poor Hunt is 
half-bothered out of his life here in painting figures ; 
but, between ourselves, he is rather exigcant in 
expecting Arabs and Turks in this climate to sit 
still (standing) for six or eight hours. Don't tell 
any one this, not even Rossetti." 

Dr. Waagen's letter in the Times of July 13, 
[854, thus ends : — "The smallness of the head in 
proportion with the figure is probably attributable 
to that ambition to imitate the early masters, even 
in their defects. . . . For the green shadows in the 
hand, though the picture is otherwise most carefully 
painted, the painter himself must be held respon- 
sible, as this is a defect which cannot be laid to the 
account of those early masters whom he may have 
studied." The "blasphemy" in the Athenceum was 
probably Frank Stone's. 

Mrs. Combe told my wife that many years ago she 

visited the studio of , a Royal Academician. He 

said to the lady who had taken her there : "Would 


you believe it? Holman Hunt has found some 
fool to buy his Light of the World." She replied, 
" Yes, I do believe it, for my friend here is the wife 

of the man who bought it." tried to wriggle 

out of it by pretending really to admire the picture. 

Mr. Hunt, writing of the neglect each new pic- 
ture met with, says : — " So constant was such 
experience that I was obliged to avoid taking up 
a new idea, knowing that I should be starved while 
the world was finding out the shallowness of the 
critic's strictures. I could only pay my way by 
doing replicas of pictures which had run the gauntlet 
of abuse, and at last had won favour." 

" Bacon was buried privately in St. Michael's 
Church near St. Alban's. The spot that contains 
his remains lay obscure and undistinguished till the 
gratitude of a private man, formerly his servant, 
erected a monument to his name and memory." It 
was, of course, the Abbey, not the Cathedral, which 
Rossetti visited. 

Satire and Satirists was by Hannay. 

For an account of Collins see note on Letter 

For Allingham's Day and Night Songs Rossetti 
and Millais each did a single illustration, Arthur 
Hughes doing eight. 

" Smith who ought to have been bowstrung" has 
lived to do letters a noble, if ill-requited service, 
by the publication of the great Dictionary of 
National Biography. 

The Folio was to contain the drawings of a newly 


formed sketching-club, of which Mr. Hughes gives 
me the following account : — " Millais, who was the 
only man among us who had any money, provided 
a nice green portfolio with a lock, in which to keep 
the drawings. Each member of the club was to 
put into it every month one drawing in black and' 
white, the case going the round. Millais did his, 
and one or two others did theirs. Then the Folio 
came to Rossetti, where it stuck for ever. It never 
reached me. According to his wont, he had at first 
been most enthusiastic over the scheme, and had so 
infected Millais with his enthusiasm that he at once 
ordered the case." 



Tuesday, August, '54. 
Dear Allingham, 

I have got out my work this morning, but 
it looks so hopelessly beastly, and I feel so hope- 
lessly beastly, that I must try to revive myself 
before beginning, by some exercise that goes 
quicker than the Fine Arts. So I'll e'en begin my 
answer to your last, wishing heartily that instead of 
writing to you I could have you here this glorious 
morning, that I might take a run with you some- 
where and try to feel a little lively. 


Two or three fellows were here last night, and 
among them Cayley, to whom I notified the call for 
my MSS. translations. I'll get them either to-day 
or to-morrow, and send them to you — I suppose by 
post, as I know of no other way. You will receive 
only those which have been copied by William, as 
my own first drafts are in a hopeless limbo of scrawl. 
W. has put no names of authors to them, on account 
of the necessity of classing them, when all copied, 
and only putting the name to the first production of 
each poet. 

Of the two ballads you sent me, I prefer the one 
I knew already, and which is one of the very few 
really fine things of the kind written in our day. 
The other has many beauties, though — indeed, is all 
beautiful, except, I think, the last couplet, which 
seems a trifle homely, a little in the broadsheet- 
song style. The subject you propose for my wood- 
cut from it is a first-rate one, and I have already 
made some scratches for its arrangement. I have 
got one of the blocks from Hughes, and hope soon 
to tell you it is done. What a pity they will not let 
the blocks be a little larger! Is not the Maids of 
Elf en- Mere founded on some Northern legend or 
other ? I seem to have read something about it in 
Keightley or somewhere. 

Tell me whether I shall send you back the copy 
of it you sent, and the one of St. Margaret's Eve. 


I don't bully the last lines of your ballad, by the bye, 
because you didn't like the last lines of my sonnet, 
which are certainly foggy. Would they be better 
thus ? — 

So in that soul, — a mindful brotherhood, — 
(When silence may not be), they wind among 
Its bye-streets, knocking at the dusty inns. 

Or I should like better — 

— they fare along 
Its high street, knocking, etc., 

but fear the rhyme "long" and "along" is hardly 
admissible. What say you ? Or can you propose 
any other improvement ? 

I've referred to my notebook for the above 
alteration, and therein are various sonnets and 
beginnings of sonnets written at crisises (? !) of 
happy inspiration. Here's one which I remember 
writing in great glory on the top of a hill which I 
reached one after-sunset in Warwickshire last year. 
I'm afraid, though, it isn't much good. 

This feast-day of the sun, his altar there 

In the broad west has blazed for vesper-song ; 

And I have loitered in the vale too long, 

And gaze now, a belated worshipper. 

Yet may I not forget that I was 'ware, 

So journeying, of his face at intervals, — 

Where the whole land to its horizon falls, 

Some fiery bush with corruscating [sic] hair. 

And now that I have climbed and tread this height, 

I may lie down where all the slope is shade, 


And cover up my face, and have till night 
With silence, darkness ; or may here be stayed, 
And see the gold air and the silver fade, 
And the last bird fly into the last light. 

It strikes me, in copying, what a good thing I 
did not adopt the first alternative, or I mightn't be 
here to copy. Here's a rather better sonnet, I 
hope, written only two or three days ago. I believe 
the affection in the last half was rather "looked 
up," at the time of writing, to suit the parallel in the 
first. ■ Do you not always like your last thing the 
best for a little while ? 

Have you not noted, in some family 

Where two remain from the first marriage bed, 
How still they own their fragrant bond, though fed 

And nurst upon an unknown breast and knee ? 

That to their father's children they shall be 
In act and thought of one good will ; but each 
Shall for the other have in silence speech, 

And in one word, complete community ? 

Even so, when first I saw you, seemed it, love, 
That among souls allied to mine was yet 

One nearer kindred than I wotted of. 

O born with me somewhere that men forget, 
And though in years of sight and sound unmet, 

Known for my life's own sister well enough ! 

What you say about my printing and your 
reviewing, &c, is very kind, and may be very 
true ; but the fact is, I think well of very little I 
have written, and am afraid of people agreeing with 
me, which I should find a bore. I believe my 
poetry and painting prevented each other from 


doing much good for a long while, and now I think 
I could do better in either, but can't write, for then 
I sha'n't paint. However, one day I hope at least 
to finish the few rhymes I have by me that I care 
for at all, and then there they'll be, at any rate. 
Your plan of a joint volume among us of poems 
and pictures is a capital one — and how many capital 
plans we have ! 

I've got the Folio here. It contains a design by 
Millais, of the Recall of the Romans from Britain ; 
one by Stephens, of Death and the Rioters ; one by 
Barbara S. — a glen scene; and one by A. M. H., 
called the Castaways, which is a rather strong- 
minded subject, involving a dejected female, mud 
with lilies lying in it, a dust-heap, and other details. 
Of course, seriously, Miss H. is quite right in 
painting it, if she chooses, and she is doing so. 
I daresay it will be a good picture. William, 
Christina, and I were there lately. The Howitts 
asked me for your address, as they wanted to write 
to you. I don't know what design I shall put into 
the Folio. I'm doing one of Hamlet and Ophelia, 
which I meant for it — deeply symbolical and far- 
sighted, of course — but I fear I shall not get it done 
in time to start the Folio again soon, so may put in 
a design I have made of Found. 

I'm finishing this late in the day (N.B. I've 
done no good and had better have cut work for 


the day), and must go out to that meal which 
combines the sweets of an assignation. I enclose 
a copy of an extract about Woolner, in case you 
can make use of it. I'll send you one of Hunt's 
letters with the MSS. 

The other day, looking over papers, I turned 
up those sheets of Sutton's poetry, about which I 
remember a slight shrug of shoulders and con- 
traction of eyebrows on your part, under the idea 
that the Fleet Ditch had engulfed them. I'll 
enclose them too. 

What do you think of MacCrac having been 
again in town ? I fear he is taking to wild habits. 
The epithet one-eyed, in his sonnet, had better stand 
downy, as the other is certainly ambiguous. By the 
bye, that is a kind accompaniment to his visit and 
my most cordial reception, isn't it ? 

I'll keep an eye on all whom I know who have 
contracted the bad habit of picture-buying, with a 
view to their ultimately finding themselves possessed 
of a Millais or a Boyce, as per instructions. 

Write soon, and believe me, 

Yours affectionately, 

D. G. Rossetti. 

P.S. — I hear this Wentworth (the "model" of 
Woolner's statue) is now in London ; and I dare 
say anything in the papers woujd meet his eye 
and do good. Millais and I have done all that 
could be done about the affair. 


Notes on XI. 

In the following account by Mr. Holman Hunt 
we see how Rossetti in a fit of impatience would 
throw clown the brush: — "The last time Rossetti 
and I worked together was at Sevenoaks. He 
set himself to paint, near to my place of work, 
a boscage for a background. I went sometimes 
to see him at work, but I found him nearly always 
as if engaged in a mortal quarrel with some leaf 
which had perversely shaken itself off its branch 
just as he had begun to paint it, until he would 
have no more of such conduct, and would go back 
to his lodgings to write, and to try designs." 

Rossetti's translations of the Early Italian Poets, 
which are frequently mentioned in these letters, 
were not published till 1861. 

The " too homely " couplet in Allingham's Maids 
of Elf en- Merc is as follows : — 

" The pastor's son did pine and die ; 
Because true love should never lie." 

It was this ballad which Rossetti illustrated. 

Of the first of the two new sonnets (7Vw Hill 
Summit, Sonnet LXX. of Ballads and Sonnets), 
the first six lines were not changed. The last 
eight were modified as follows : — 


" Transfigured where the fringed horizon falls, — 
A fiery bush with coruscating hair. 
And now that I have climbed and won this height, 



I must tread downward through the sloping shade, 
And travel the bewildered tracks till night. 
Yet for this hour I still may here be stayed 
And see the gold air and the silver fade, 
And the last bird fly into the last light." 

In the second sonnet (No. XV.) there are some 
slight changes. 

The belief that Rossetti's poetry hindered his 
progress in painting led his father, writes Mr. 
W. M. Rossetti, "to reprehend him sharply, and 
even severely ; and to reprehension he was at all 
times more than sufficiently stubborn. He grieved 
over the matter of our father's displeasure to his 
dying day." 

Of Mr. Frederic George Stephens, one of the 
P.R. B., Millais, as Mr. Hughes informs me, 
"painted a perfect portrait as Ferdinand lured by 

A. M. H. was Anna Mary Howitt. Of her 
Rossetti wrote to his sister a few months earlier : 
"Anna Mary has painted a sunlight picture of 
Margaret (Faust) in a congenial wailing state." 

"The meal which combined the sweets of an 
assignation " was no doubt to be taken at " the 
Belle pas Sauvage" of Letters VII. and IX. 

"Sutton was (if I remember right)," Mr. W. M. 
Rossetti tells me, "a man in a humble position 
of life, who professed to be descended from George 
Herbert. The Fleet Ditch ran under my brother's 
windows overlooking Blackfriars Bridge. There 
was a funny anecdote (true) about his throwing 


away into the ditch some book he scorned ; he 
did this two or three times over, and each time 
it was brought back by a ' mud-lark.' Perhaps 
the book was this of Sutton's." 

Patmore, writing to Allingham on August 15, 
1849, says: — "I long to hear something of my 
admired, though unseen friend, Mr. Sutton." 
Many years ago a friend of mine told me that 
a stranger wished to hire from him an arch under 
one of the London railways, in which he meant to 
conduct a religious service every Sunday. " Of 
what sect?" asked my friend. "Of the Sutto- 
nians." "Who are the Suttonians ? '' "The 
followers of Sutton." "Who is Sutton?" "I 
am Sutton." Perhaps this holy man was Rossetti's 

In the last paragraph of this letter is seen an 
instance of that zeal of Rossetti's which never 
failed when there was a chance of helping a friend. 
The following record by my wife of a talk she had 
with an old friend of ours and his illustrates this, 
and explains, though it does not justify, one side 
of the great painter's character : — 

" I said that these Rossetti letters had given us 
so much higher an opinion of the man than we 
had ever had before that we all the more regretted 
the want of honesty he had about the execution of 
commissions. He looked very sad, and, I could 
see, felt the subject painfully. 'Yes,' he said, 'it 
was much to be regretted ; but, after all, I don't 
think W. B. Scott need have said what he. did. 


He was not the man to judge fairly Here was 
Scott, a typical Scotchman, caring for money and 
knowing its worth, and at the same time possessed 
of all a Scotchman's integrity as regards money 
matters ; and here was Rossetti, an Italian all over, 
caring for money, too, but lavish and generous, 
wanting it to give away as much as for himself. He 
was awfully generous, and he was a sort of Robin 
Hood in. art ; he thought the rich ought to be made 
to pay for the good of the poor artists, and he 
would get all the money he could out of them ; but 
he would do this" as much for others as for himself. 
Oh, he would work night and day to help a poor 
friend ; he would give a rich man, who he thought 
ought to buy a friend's picture, no peace, till the 
rich man bought it only to get rid of his impor- 
tunity. And then how generous he was in his 
judgment of a friend's work ! ' Here he paused, 
and I could see his mind wandering back to the 
old days, fondly dwelling on the various acts of 
kindness he had himself received from Rossetti. 
I could say no more of shortcomings." 

To his zeal for his. friends others have borne 
like testimony. Madox Brown wrote of him in 
1856: — "No one ever perhaps showed such a 
vehement disposition to proclaim any real merit 
if he thinks he discovers it in an unknown or rising 
artist. I could narrate a hundred instances of the 
most noble and disinterested conduct towards his 
art-rivals, which places him far above [others] in 
his greatness of soul, and yet he will, on the most 


trivial occasion, hate and backbite any one who 
gives him offence." 

Mr. Skelton says in The Table-Talk of Shirley : — 
" I have preserved a number of Rossetti's letters, 
and there is barely one, I think, which is not 
mainly devoted to warm commendation of obscure 
poets and painters, — obscure at the time of writing, 
but of whom more than one has since become 


[Endorsed, '54.] 
Dear A., 

Here are all the translations copied as yet 
— a large dose, though there are many more behind, 
but very likely you'll find these quite enough. 
Please acknowledge their receipt at once, as I 
feel rather anxious about their safe carriage. 

I send the only two letters I have of Hunt's. 
One is hardly worth sending, as it is before he 
reached his journey's end. The second is a very 
old one : perhaps my not having any since may 
be owing to the simple and shameful fact of my 
not having answered it yet, which I'm going 
to do. 

Your D. G. R. 

I've numbered the MSS. to prevent their 


getting out of order. I hav'n't mustered courage 

or \letter imperfect] to look up my original 

scrawls, but if I can find anything I'll send it 
one day. 

Note on XII. 

These translations were published in 1861 under 
the title of The Early Italian Poets. "Self reliant 
though my brother was when he made the transla- 
tions," writes Mr. W. M. Rossetti, "and still more 
so when he was preparing to publish them, he was 
nevertheless extremely ready to consult well-qualified 
friends as to this book. In this way he showed his 
MS. to Mr. Allingham, Mr. Ruskin, Mr. Patmore, 
Count Aurelio Saffi, and no doubt to Mr. Swinburne 
and some others as well." 


Sept. 19 [1854J. 
Dear Allingham, 

I've just got your letter this morning. 
About the woodcut, I fancy the poem and 
extracts you send to-day are hardly so much in 
my "line" for illustration as the two others you 
sent before. The Maids of Elfin Mere will be 
the one, I dare say, after all. This chiefly be- 
cause the Nursery Rhyme on which S. M's. Eve 


[Saint Margaret's Eve] is founded is included and 
illustrated in Child's Play, by the Hon. Mrs. 
Boyle, and is there very well done. 

I made a sketch for the Maids the first day 
you sent it — i.e., for the arrangement, and think 
it would come nice. At any rate of that or of 
one of the others I hope you will soon hear 
that a block is drawn, and Hughes has sent me 

Hughes was here the other evening, and 
showed me several sketches and wood-blocks 
he has drawn, — all of them excellent in many 
ways ; but the blocks I think, especially the one 
of the man and girl at a stile, rather wanting in 
force for the engraver. He agreed with me, and 
I believe will do something to amend this. He 
has made a few very nice little sketches for cuts 
in the text, if such should prove admissible. One 
or two for the Fairies are remarkably original. 
I should really, I believe, have got mine in hand 
before this, but various troublesome anxieties have 
interfered with that and other work, among the 
rest with my duty to the Folio, which is still by 
me. I sha'n't put in my modern design, and 
must finish one of two or three I have going 
on, instead. I am doing one, which I think will 
be the one, of Hamlet and Ophelia, so treated as 
I think to embody and symbolise the play without 


obtrusiveness or interference with the subject as a 

By the bye Hughes showed me a little poem 
about What it is they say and do, which I think, 
if treated carefully, would illustrate very well. It 
was one of my favorites in your old vol. — but I 
think on reflexion \_sic.~\ would not illustrate except 
in the text. Are you not going to include the 
Yotmg Man and Death (if that is the title) one 
of your very best? There is among those trans- 
lations of mine a longish dialogue with Death by 
Guido Cavalcanti, which always reminds me of 
that poem — i.e. the original. 

I've been very unwell this morning', but have 
taken some physic and am much better. This 
must account for the flatness of my writing, for it 
is flat. I fear you must get the Athenceum rather 
late. When I began to have it sent on to you, I 
found, what I knew not, that they were in the 
habit of sending it to an uncle of mine at 
Gloucester. I gave you the priority, but it seems 
he "appealed" (though he does not care a dump 
about it), and we thought it better not to hurt 
his feelings. This will account if it reaches you 
now later than at first. I'll mention to them at 
Albany St. about the label. No doubt you saw 
the review of Hannay's excellent book on Satire ; 
it will put him on a first-rate footing with that 


fool Dixon, and be of use no doubt. The book 
has proved a hit. I think, if you liked, I could 
send you it to read — a copy (i.e.) belonging to 
the Spectator. Hannay has also brought out a 
little book with Routledge called Sand and Shells 
and is writing a novel called Hilton of the Lotus, 
to be published in the Home Circle, and which 
pays very well. He has just come back to settle 
in London, and I spent last Wednesday evening 
with him. William has been back in London a 
day or two, after walking through a great part of 
Devon and Cornwall with Paul, and enjoying it 
vastly. I do not know whether he has yet left 
ao-ain en route for Belgium, where he is to end 
his holidays. 

I wanted to send you a letter Stephens had 
from Hunt, but it seems there is some mystic 
matter in it, so he has copied what I enclose for 
you. It is the latest news, I believe. The Chief 
of Zanguebar is a lark, but I confess I begrudge 
him that whole sheet of note paper. The Times 
on Massey is loathsome indeed. Really some one 
ought to write to them about that prig from Poe, 
which has roused Hannay 's bile. I've been read- 
ing a Spectator copy of Firmilian in its complete 
state — on second thoughts I'll post it now for you 
instead of describing it. Please return it soon. 
I've also read some of the Stones of Venice 


having received all Ruskin's books from him, 
really a splendid present, including even the 
huge plates of Venetian architecture. I've heard 
again from him at Chamounix. I've been greatly 
interested in Wuthering Heights, the first novel 
I've read for an age, 'and the best (as regards 
power and sound style) for two ages, except 
Sidonia. But it is a fiend of a book — an 
incredible monster, combining all the stronger 
female tendencies from Mrs. Browning to Mrs. 
Brownrigg. The action is laid in hell, — only it 
seems places and people have English names 
there. Did you ever read it ? 

I think you're quite right about leaving out a 
few of my translations from the volume, and 
should like to know which you think. I had 
thought so myself, but shall copy out all I have 
done before determining. I am very glad you 
like them so much, and will send more when 

My plan as to their form is, I think, a preface 
for the first part, containing those previous to 
Dante, and a connecting essay (but not bulky) 
for the second part, containing Dante and his 
contemporaries, as many of them are in the form 
of correspondence, etc., very interesting, and re- 
quire some annotation. I think you have few or 
none of this class. I shall include the Vita 


Nuova, I am almost sure, and then the vol. 
will be a thick one. I think, if it were possible 
to bring some or all out first, as you say, in a 
good magazine, the plan might be a very good 
one. Indeed, anything that paid would be very 
useful just now, as I do not forget my debts. 
I've a longish story more than half done, which 
might likely be even more marketable in this 
way. It is not so intensely metaphysical as that 
in the Germ. If I possibly can manage to copy 
what I've done of it, I'd like to send it you. By 
the bye, in my last long letter (a long letter, 
Allingham) I put two sonnets which I'm afraid 
you didn't like. Pray tell me, too, about the 
alteration I there proposed in the last lines of 
one, which you objected to. 

I fear this letter has as many Fs as Argus : 
argal it is snobbish. 

Tenez vous bien for the present and good bye. 

Yours sincerely, 

D. G. Rossetti. 

Notes ox XIII. 

Rossetti, writing to \Y. B. Scott in the spring of 
this year, mentions a sketching-club which Millais 
was trying to found among the P. R. B. and their 
close allies, with the addition of the Marchioness of 
Waterford and the Honourable Mrs. Boyle, known 


as E. V. B. "The two ladies," wrote Rossetti, 
"are great in design." Child's Play, Seventeen 
Drawings, by E. V. B., was published by Addey 
& Co., Old Bond Street (no date given). 

The sketches were for Allingham's Day and 
Night Songs. The Fairies is the charming nursery 
song, Up the Airy Mountain, known to thousands 
and thousands of children. Mr. Hughes's woodcut 
is the frontispiece of the volume. 

Mr. W. M. Rossetti says that in 1859 "Mr. 
Plint bought a pen-and-ink drawing — a Hamlet 
(Hamlet and Ophelia I suppose) for ^42." About 
the same time, or perhaps a little later, I saw a pen- 
and-ink Hamlet and Ophelia in Colonel Gillum's 

The following is Allingham's "little poem which 
would illustrate very well " : — 


" Plays a child in a garden fair 

Where the demigods are walking ; 
Playing unsuspected there 
' As a bird within the air, 

Listens to their wondrous talking : 
' Would I knew — would I knew 
What it is they say and do ! ' 

" Stands a youth at city-gate, 

Sees the knights go forth together, 
Parleying superb, elate, 
Pair by pair in princely state, 

Lance and shield and haughty feather : 
'Would I knew — would I knew 
What it is they say and do ! ' 


" Bends a man with trembling knees 
By a gulf of cloudy border ; 
Deaf, he hears no voice from these 
Winged shades he dimly sees 

Passing by in solemn order : 
' Would I knew — O would I knew 
What it is they say and do ! '" 

The title of the Young Man and Death is Death 
Deposed. It is to be found on page 78 of Thought 
and Word. 

Of Rossetti's uncle in Gloucester, Henry F. 
Polydore, a portrait by his nephew is given in 
Rossetti's Letters and Memoir, vol. ii. p. 181. 

"That fool Dixon" was William Hepworth 
Dixon, the editor of the Athenceum. 

Sands and Shells were sketches of "modern 
sea-life seen through the glasses of fiction." The 
Home Circle came to an end with this year. If 
Hannay's novel was finished it was not published, 
at least, under the title given by Rossetti. 

Paul was Benjamin Horatio Paul, a scientific 

The Chief of Zanquebar was mentioned, I 
had conjectured, in Mr. Holman Hunt's letter ; 
but he cannot explain the allusion. 

The Times, reviewing Gerald Massey's Poems 
on August 24, 1854, quoted the following verse: — 

" Ah ! 'tis like a tale of olden 
Time, long, long ago ! 
When the world was in its golden 
Prime, and love was lord below.'' 


This, probably recalled to Rossetti, the second 
verse in Poe's Haunted Palace : — 

'• Banners yellow, glorious, golden, 
On its roof did float and flow, 
(This — all this — was in the olden 
Time long ago.) 

"There is," wrote Rossetti on May n, 1854, 
"a very rich skit on A. Smith, Balder, &c, in 
Blackwood, professing to be a review of Firmilian, 
a Tragedy by Percy Jones." Sir Theodore Martin 
in his Life of W. E. Aytoun in the Dictionary of 
National Biography, says : — " Firmilian was written 
[by Aytoun] in ridicule of the extravagant themes 
and style of Bailey, Dobell, and A. Smith. It 
was, however, so full of imagination in fine 
rhythmical swing, that its object was mistaken, 
and what was meant for caricature was accepted 
as serious poetry." 

Rossetti, writing about the books Ruskin gave 
him, says : — " He wished me to accept these as a 
gift, but it is such a costly one that I have told 
him I shall make him a small water-colour in 

According to Mr. Clement Shorter, " Mr. Swin- 
burne placed the authoress of Wtdhering Heights 
[Emily Bronte] in the very forefront of English 
women of genius." 

Sidonia the Sorceress is by William Meinhold. 
" For this work," writes Mr. W. M. Rossetti, " my 


brother had a positive passion ; he much preferred 
it to The Amber Witch of the same author." 

Writing to his sister Christina, on December 
3, 1875, about her new volume of poems, he says : — 
"The first of the two poems [on the Franco- 
Prussian war] seems to me just a little echoish 
of the Barrett- Browning style. ... A real taint, 
to some extent, of modern vicious style, derived 
from the same source — what might be called a 
falsetto muscularity — always seemed to me much 
too prominent in the long piece called The Lowest 

Mrs. Brownrigg is best illustrated by the follow- 
ing parody, in The Anti-Jacobin, of Southey's 
Inscription for the Apartment in Chepstow Castle 
where Henry Marten, the Regicide, was imprisoned 
Thirty Years. 



For one long term, or e'er her trial came, 

Here Brownrigg linger'd. Often have these cells 

Echoed her blasphemies, as with shrill voice 

She screamed for fresh Geneva. Not to her 

Did the blithe fields of Tothill, or thy street, 

St. Giles, its fair varieties expand ; 

Till at the last, in slow-drawn cart she went 

To execution. Dost thou ask her crime ? 

She whipp'd two female 'prentices to death 

And hid them in the coal-hole. For her mind 

Shaped strictest plans of discipline. Sage schemes ! 


Such as Lycurgus taught, when at the shrine 

Of the Orthian goddess he bade flog 

The little Spartans ; such as erst chastised 

Our Milton when at college. For this act 

Did Brownrigg swing. Harsh laws ! But time shall come 

When France shall reign, and laws be all repealed. 

Rossetti's translation of the Vita Nuova was 
included in his Early Italian Poets, now named 
Dante and his Circle. 

His debts, which he says he does not forget, 
troubled him through life. Of his old father, the 
poor exile, even when his sight was failing and 
" a real tussle for the means of subsistence arose," 
his son William could say: "No butcher, nor 
baker, nor candlestick-maker ever had a claim 
upon us for a sixpence unpaid." On April 24, 
1876, Rossetti told his mother that in the last 
year he had made .£3,725. He added : "I believe 
this is somewhere about my average income, yet 
I am always hard up for ^50." 

"'A longish story,' says Mr. W. M. Rossetti, 
must be the one which was first called An 
Autoftsyckology, and afterwards St. Agnes of 
Intercession, written towards 1850. It is published 
(uncompleted) in his Collected Works." It was 
to have been published in The Germ. " Millais 
did an etching for it." 

Of the " metaphysical " story, Hand and Soul, 
in the first number of The Germ, Rossetti writes : — 
" I wrote it (with the exception of an opening page 
or two) all in one night, in December, 1849; 

/%c yztitn. - ^ £4zT/V*Z c&? 


\To face page 65. 


beginning, 1 suppose, about two a.m., and ending 
about seven." 

" The Germ" writes Mr. W. M. Rossetti, " was 
projected as the organ of the P.R.B. for pro- 
mulgating their views in art and in literature — 
especially poetic literature. The seven members 
of the Brotherhood were owners of the concern. 
The prime-mover was Dante Rossetti, who was at 
this date just as keen in literary as in pictorial 
interest and ambition. Next to him, Woolner was 
the most active spirit, and, for artistic purposes, 
Holman Hunt. I (at the mature age of twenty) 
was appointed editor. The title of the magazine 
was not my brother's invention. I recollect a 
conclave which was held one evening in his studio, 
then in Newman Street. A great number of titles 
were proposed, and jotted down on a fly-sheet 
which I still possess. Mr. W. C. Thomas, the 
painter, suggested The Germ." Mr. Rossetti has 
kindly lent me two fly-sheets on which the following 
titles were written down. The first ends with a 
note by Mr. Thomas. 

" The Germ. Qy. better than Seed. 

Several words expressing Progress. 

The Acclerator. 
The Precursor ! ! ! 
The Advent. 




The Harbinger ! ! ! 
The Innovator. 

Modest Titles. 

First thoughts. 
Earnest thoughts. 
The Aspirant. 

The Expansive. 
The United Arts. 
The Mirror of Nature. 
The Anti-Archeologist. 
The Circle. 
The Sphere. 
The prism. 

The print. 
The Atom. 
The Ant. 
The lantern. 
The Adventurer. 
The Student. 
The Scholar. 
The Chalice. 
The Casket. 
The Repertory. 
The Investigator. 
The Enterprise. 
The Lustre. 
The Illuminator. 
The Appeal. 
The Die. 
The Mould. 
The principle. 

"As your brother Gabriel was speaking of 
christening the journal, I've sent you all that I can 
think of, which may perhaps suggest something 
to you or yours which may be much better than 
anything I've thought of. 

" It is an important matter. There is something 
in a name. 

"Yours W. C. T. 



" The number of Notes of Admiration represent 
my notion of the value of each. Five being the 
highest value. W. C. T. 

The Sower ! ! ! ! ! 

The progressist ! ! ! ! 

The Seed ! ! ! ! ! 

Aspects of Nature ! ! ! ! 

The Guide to Nature ! 

The prospective ! ! 

The View. 

The Alert. 

The Opinion. 

The Meditator ! ! ! 

The Reflector. 

The Effort. 

The Attempt. 

Aspirations towards Truth ! ! ! 

The Truthseeker ! ! ! 

The Dawn. 

The Well. 

The Spring. 

The fountain. 

The Dawn. 

" The first four names are the best." 

The Messenger. 
The Chariot. 
The Wheel. 
The Spur. 
The Goad. 
The Bud. 
The Acorn. 

The Germ changed its name after the second 
number. '■ For numbers three and four," writes 
Mr. W. M. Rossetti, "which were brought out at 
the risk of our friendly printing-firm, a new title, 


Art and Poetry, was invented by a member of the 
firm, Mr. Alexander Tupper." 

Patmore wrote to Allingham on January 5, 1850 : 
— "A few artists — young, and for the most part 
illustrious, though as yet obscure — (Hunt, Millais, 
G. Rosetti [sic.'], &c), have set a-going a small 
magazine upon a sound system. The first number 
has appeared, and it is full of good poetry, and 
noticeable criticism, and has an exquisite etching 
by Hunt. I think you would like to form one of 
the little corporation, subscribing (one shilling per 
month) and contributing (gratis). The title is The 
Germ. I will send you a number to judge of. The 
little poem called The Seasons is mine." 

Holman Hunt, writing of his Rienzi, says : — " I 
asked ^100 for it, and had great need of the 
money, for my store was well-nigh exhausted. 
With the little remaining, however, I began The 
Christian Missionary picture, and became part- 
proprietor and co-operator as illustrator of The 
Germ, which was started soon after this without 
stock of either matter or capital — of nothing but 
faith, in short. As weeks and months went by, the 
indignation of our opponents became fiercer, and 
made itself heard through the Press. By the end 
of July I had well-nigh come to my last penny, 
some work that I had been commissioned to do, 
and on which I had spent time and money, coming 
to nothing from the change of feeling about our 
school. The unpunctuality of so important a con- 
tributor as Rossetti made it impossible to go on, 

No. 1. (Price One ShiUing.J JANUARY, 1850. 

With an Etching hy W. HOLMAU HUNT. 

1&t)t €rerm: 

<Sjnrag(rt0 taurto ftto 


Jffiljen tojoso metclp Jatl) s ItttU tfjougjt 

JBtfn plaints tjinfe t!;e tjougjt tofjkf) la in film - 
jgot imaging another's firigjt or Sim, 
Jiot mangling isitl) n«m ioortrs tnjat others taught; 
St|ien tofjoso spcata, (tarn Jading either sought 
©r onlg founn,— toill sptafc, not fuat to sfefm 
■3 sjalloto surface toltl) toortra maB« anH trim, 
"aSnt in tljat btrg apeetj t$e matttr Srougfjt : 
13« not too 6«n to «p— " So rljis is all !— 

% tiling I mfgjt mpself Jane rjougjt as troll, 
33ut tooultt not sag it, fot ft teas not toortli ! " 

" Is tjis ttutj ?" .for is it still to ull 
®Jat, it i%i ti)tmt a joint or tfje toliole tartf), 
fflrtttj is- a tircft, pwfect, great or small ? 



\To face page 68. 


although Millais then had his plate ready to 
illustrate a mystic story by him. Of course the 
want of capital also told, and the poor Germ died, 
but not without making itself heard." 

"After balancing receipts and expenditure," 
writes Mr. W. M. Rossetti, "we had to meet a 
printer's bill of ^33 odd. This seems now a very 
moderate burden ; but it was none the less a 
troublesome one to all or most of us at that period. 
For many years past it has been a literary curiosity, 
fetching high fancy prices." For the four numbers 
so much as £9 has been given. Mr. Hughes tells 
me that one day when he was working among the 
students at the Royal Academy, Munro brought in 
the first number. It was handed round, and on all 
sides jeered at. When it came to him, he was 
greatly struck with it, above all with Mr. W. M. 
Rossetti's sonnet on the title-page, which had a real 
influence on his life. His admiration of it made 
him known to Munro, and through h'm to Rossetti 
and the other Prseraphaelites. 

Mr. Ruskin in his Lectures on Architecture and 
Painting speaking of the P.R.B. in 1854, says: — 
" Their fellow-students hiss them when they enter 
the room." 



Sunday, 15 October [1854J. 
Dear Allingham, 

What do you think? Woolner is back. 
Rather broader and stouter, and certainly looking 
healthier, but unaltered otherwise. \Letter im- 
perfect^ manner, which I expected perhaps to find 
a little changed and sobered, but it is just the 
same. William and I have spent last night and 
this morning with him, and talked of all things 
and all friends, of yourself more than once, to 
whom he sends friendly greetings. 

It is jolly to have him again among us, and I 
hope with good prospect of success before him. 
As far as he can judge hitherto, he has a right 
to think himself almost sure of the statue com- 
mission of which I wrote to you, and if so he 
will be set up for life, there can hardly be a 
doubt. He is going to find a studio \letter im- 
perfect], and there I trust we may all meet and 
enjoy ourselves when you are next in London. 
Hunt may be back too perhaps, and the old circle 
meet again — poor Deverell excepted. 

Now to speak of your volume. I have drawn 
the Maids of E.M. \Elfin Mere\ once on the 
wood, and find I have committed a stupid mistake 
in not drawing the actions reversed, so that, when 


printed, the figures will be left-handed. I am 
therefore going to trace and draw it again on 
another block, which I trust will soon be done, 
and in Routledge's hands. I shall like, if I can 
find time, to do a second drawing from some other 
of the poems. 

My time has lately been engrossed by the back- 
ground of my modern subject, which I have been 
painting out of doors at Chiswick — cold work these 
last days, but much finer weather hitherto than I 
dare to hope for again in all probability. It will 
be a disappointment to me if I am baulked, after 
all, and cannot get done before the unmanageable 
weather. I paint daily within earshot almost of 
Hogarth's grave — a good omen for one's modern 
picture ! This work has left me no time at all for 
anything else lately. Ruskin is back again, and 
wrote to me, naming a day when he meant to 
call, but I was obliged to write I could not be 
at my rooms. He has written again since, saying 
he wants to consult with me about plans for 
" teaching the masons " ; so you may soon expect 
to find every man shoulder his hod, "with up- 
turned fervid face and hair put back." I am 
painting near the house of some old friends of 
ours at Chiswick, the family of Mr. Keightley, 
whom you have heard me name. They are Irish 
people, and of course I introduced the Songs. 


Old K. was taken with the Fairies, and there 
is a very nice girl who especially delights in 
sEolian Harp No. i, and dreamt your Dream 
right through the night after reading it. 

I can't make out why the Autumn Evening 
forms a section by itself in your list. I shall try 
to call at Routledge's, and look at the MS., as 
I have no doubt of a pleasure in store from the 
new ones, though there do not seem to be many. 
Hughes showed me some pretty and very simple 
sketches he had made, and meant to propose to 
R. for titles and sections and heads of pages. 
He also showed me his picture of Orlando, which 
he has immensely improved this year ; in fact, 
made quite another thing of the background. I 
trust Routledge means to do you and us justice 
in the cutting of the blocks. I shall lecture him 
about it, and tell him that if they are to be badly 
done and I could know it beforehand, he should 
not have one from me on any consideration. I 
have really not been forgetting my blocks, but 
the background painting has been peremptory and 
impossible to defer. 

Thanks for your kind suggestions and offers of 
mediation as to printing some of my Italian poems 
in a magazine. Eraser's, if attainable, would be 
the one I should prefer to any other. But I have 
had no time to think about this yet since reading 


your letter, and must answer at more length next 
time. When you send me back the MSS. you 
have, I think there will be another batch ready 
copied for you. I am very anxious indeed to see 
your annotations, and doubt not to profit by them. 
Thanks also for your criticism on the Sonnet. 
The construction of those four lines is thus : 

" Yet may I not forget that I was ware, 
So journeying, of his face at intervals, 
Some fiery bush with coruscating r hair, 
Where the whole land to its horizon falls ! " 

Only the metre forced me to transpose. It is 
meant to refer to the effect one is nearly sure to 
see in passing- along a road at sunset, when the 
sun glares in a radiant focus behind some low 
bush or some hedge on the horizon of the 
meadows. But it is obscure, I believe, though 
if I were disposed to be stiff-necked, I might lug 
up William, to whom I have just showed the 
sonnet, and who understood the line in question 
at once. But I'll trv to alter it — if worth working; 
at. In the hateful mechanical brick-painting I 
have been at I have had time to make verses, 
and have finished a ballad — professedly modern- 
antique, of which I remember once telling you 
the story as we were walking about Mrs. Orme's 
garden. I'll copy it for you and inclose it with. 

1 "? Has coruscating one or two r's.'" — Xote by Rossetti. 


-this, asking your severest criticism. I doubt my- 
self whether it at all succeeds in its attempt. 
However, I don't think it is finished yet, and if 
any feature should suggest itself to you as \Jetter 
imperfect] to the story or preferable, pray mention 
it. I have purposely taken an unimportant phrase 
here and there from the old things. I was doubting 
whether it would not be better to make the im- 
proper lord and lady slip into a new-made grave, 
while wading through the churchyard, and be 
drowned. This might make a good description 
and conclusion, and I fear the thing is at present 
almost too unpoetical in style. Tell me what you 
think — or whether the present ending seems the 
more or less hackneyed of the two. 

I send you the last bit of Hunt received last 
night. Let me have it again, please, at once, as 
I must answer it soon for conscience' sake, as that 
projected letter he writes that he was expecting 
from me was never written, after all. 

I think I remember your speaking to me of 
Wuthering Heights, long ago. I never read any 
of Czirrer Bell. Is she half as good ? I see by 
the advertisements of Smith & Elder that W. B. 
Scott's Poems are out, and hope soon to get one 
from him. He and his family have happily 
escaped from any injury in that dreadful affair at 


Write soon, and with a better pen than this, 
lest your letter should be a torment to write and 
read. I lay awake this morning {letter imperfect] 
with Woolner till 5 o'clock talking of old times, 
so sleepiness now must account for stupidity. 

Yours always D. G. R. 

[On the margin of the first page of the letter 
the following is written :] " Rossetti kindly gives 
me this border to myself, which I use to say, what 
you of course know, that I shall rejoice to meet 
and have a yarn and talk over the world's [letter 
imperfect] ours and our friends' prospects. I never 
thanked you for the sweet little poems you sent 
me 2\ years ago at Plymouth. 

"Your, Dear Allingham, 

"Thos. Woolner." 

Notes on XIV. 

Rossetti, writing in the autumn of 1853, says : — 
" Woolner has sent an Australian newspaper. It 
says that ' Mr. Woolner is a gentleman of very 
affable and agreeable manners,' which is rather 
rich." On this Mr. W. M. Rossetti remarks that 
' ' Woolner was much more laudable for sturdy in- 
dependence and resolute decision than for any- 
thing to be classed under the term ' affable.' " 

" For sculpture," writes Mr. Holman Hunt, 
" Rossetti in private expressed little regard ; he 


professed admiration for the minds of many men 
engaged in it, but he could scarcely understand 
their devotion to work which seemed in modern 
hands so cold and meaningless, and which was so 
limited in its power of illustration." 

" Poor Deverell " had died a few months earlier. 
" He was," Mr. Arthur Hughes tells me, " a manly 
young fellow, with a feminine beauty added to his 
manliness ; exquisite manners and a most affec- 
tionate disposition. He died early, after painting 
two or three pictures. Had he lived he would 
have been a poetic painter, but not a strong one. 
Millais, hard-working and ambitious though he 
was, used to sit hour after hour by his bedside 
reading to him." I have seen him described by 
one of the artist set in a letter to Allingham as 
" little Deverell, with his soft, effeminate, alluring 
face." W. B. Scott wrote of him as " a youth, like 
the rest of them, of great but impatient ability, and 
of so lovely yet manly a character of face, with its 
finely-formed nose, dark eyes and eyebrows, and 
young silky moustache, that it was said ladies had 
gone hurriedly round by side streets to catch 
another sight of him." He sat for the page in 
Madox Brown's Chaucer at the Court of Edward 
III. At the sale this summer at Christie's of 
Mr. Leathart's collection his picture of A Lady 
with a Birdcage fetched only six guineas. 

"To the best of my recollection," writes Mr. W. 
M. Rossetti, "the very first woodcut my brother 
actually produced was The Maids of Elfin Mere." 


This inexperience would account for his " stupid 

Rossetti's " modern subject" is the picture called 
Found. "It represents a rustic lover, a drover 
[a farmer ?], who finds his old sweatheart at a low 
depth of degradation, both from vice and penury, 
in the streets of London. He endeavours to lift 
her as she crouches on the pavement." Madox 
Brown sat for the head of the man. It was the 
brick wall in this picture that was painted at 
Chiswick. The calf and cart, as the next letter 
shows, were painted at Finchley. "This picture," 
writes Mr. W. M. Rossetti, " was a source of 
lifelong vexation to my brother and to the gentle- 
men — some three or four in succession — who com- 
missioned him to finish it. It was nearly completed, 
but not quite, towards the close of his life." In 
1859 a commission was given him for the picture 
at three hundred and twenty guineas. On Feb- 
ruary 4, 1 88 1, he wrote: — Found progresses 
rapidly." "There is no knowing (he once said) 
in such a lottery as painting, where all things 
have a chance against one — weather, stomach, 
temper, model, paint, patience, self-esteem, self- 
abhorrence, and the devil into the bargain." 

The epitaph on Hogarth's grave was composed 
by Garrick, " working upon " some lines furnished 
to him by Johnson. 

Ruskin's "plans for 'teaching the masons,'" are 
explained in the next letter. 

That "upturned fervid face and hair put back" 
is from Sordello, ed., 1885, p. 214. 


Mr. Keightley was " the historian and author 
of The Fairy Mythology, a book," writes Mr. W. 
M. Rossetti, " which formed one of the leading 
delights of our childhood." 

The Dream which the girl " dreamt right 
through " is as follows : — 

" I heard the dogs howl in the moonlight night, 
And I went to the window to see the sight ; 
All the dead that ever I knew 
Going one by one and two by two. 

On they pass'd and on they pass'd ; 
Townsfellows all from first to last ; 
Born in the moonlight of the lane, 
And quench'd in the heavy shadow again. 

Schoolmates, marching as when we play'd 
At soldiers once — but now more staid ; 
Those were the strangest sights to me 
Who were drown'd, I knew, in the awful sea. 

Straight and handsome folk ; bent and weak too ; 
And some that I loved, and gasp'd to speak to ; 
Some but a day in their churchyard bed ; 
And some that I had not known were dead. 

A long, long crowd — where each seem'd lonely, 
And yet of them all there was one, one only, 
That rais'd a head, or look'd my way ; 
And she seem'd to linger, but might not stay. 

How long since I saw that fair pale face ! 
Ah, mother dear, might I only place 
My head on thy breast, a moment to rest, 
While thy hand on my tearful cheek were prest ! 


On, on, a moving bridge they made 
Across the moon-stream, from shade to shade, 
Young and old, women and men ; 
Many long-forgot, but remember'd then. 

And first there came a bitter laughter ; 
And a sound of tears a moment after ; 
And then a music so lofty and gay, 
That every morning, day by day, 
I strive to recall it if I may.'' 

An Autumn Evening, as it is printed, does not 
" form a section by itself" any more than any other 
poem in the collection. 

Mr. Arthur Hughes's Orlando is mentioned 
again in Letter XX. 

Into Eraser's Magazine Rossetti was not likely to 
find admittance. The Table Talk of Shirley shows 
how hostile John Parker, the editor, was to the 
new school of poetry. Some six years later 
Rossetti tried, through Ruskin, to get some of 
his poems published in The Comhill Magazine, 
but nothing came of it. 

Mr. W. M. Rossetti has done much to smooth 
the reader's course through his brother's sonnets in 
his Prose Paraphrase of the House of Life in his 
work entitled Dante Gabriel Rossetti as Designer 
and Writer. "Not long ago," he writes, "one 
of his most intimate friends put it to me pointedly 
in the phrase, 'They cannot be understood.' I 
should like them to be understood ; and, as I 
appear to myself to understand the great majority 


of their bulk and contents, I have thought it not 
inconsistent with respect to my brother's memory, 
and with a desire to extend the right estimate of 
his writing, that I should take it upon me to 
expound their meaning." 

The ballad which Rossetti had finished was 
Stratton Water. Fifteen years later he added a 
few stanzas. 

He wrote to his sister on November 8, 1853 : — 
" Last night Miss Barbara Smith invited us all to 
lunch with her on Sunday ; and perhaps I shall go, 
as she is quite a. jolly fellow — which was Thackeray's 
definition of Mrs. Orme." On this Mr. W. M. 
Rossetti remarks, "Mrs. Orme, whom Thackeray 
called 'a jolly fellow,' was the sister-in-law of Mr. 
Coventry Patmore. Hers was a rich abundant 
nature, only partially indicated in Thackeray's 
phrase, for her whole type of character was most 
essentially that of a woman and not a man ; among 
many kind friends of my youth she was nearly 
the kindest of all." 

For so young a man, Rossetti had been strangely 
careless of the talk of the day. He had never 
read any of Charlotte Bronte's stories, and yet he 
was but nineteen years old when Jane Eyre was 
published. I well remember, boy though I was 
at the time, the stir it made. I remember, too, 
the affectation of a prude who, in my father's house, 
when a man came into the parlour, hid the book 
away under the sofa cushion, as unfit for a spinster's 


W. B. Scott's new volume of Poems is mentioned 
in the next letter. He was head of the Newcastle 
School of Design. On October 6th of this year 
there had been •' a great destruction of life and 
property in that town and Gateshead, by the. ex- 
plosion of vast stores of combustibles." 

XV. - 

Finchley, November, 1854. 
My dear Allingham, 

Your last letter has been carried carefully 
in my pocket all this time, with the view of its 
being answered, as it ought to have been long ere 
now. To-night I search my pockets for it at last 
for that immediate purpose, and of course it has 
somehow flown. I hope I shall not have forgotten 
anything that ought to be spoken of in this. One 
thing I must not forget is to say how very busy and 
bothered I have been, and to beg that may plead 
my excuse for delay, not only with the letter, but 
with the more important wood-block, which is not 
yet sent in. It would have been so before now, 
but that staying out here, I am prevented from 
working on it from nature except by flying visits 
to London on Sundays, and I am loth to finish it 
without nature. The delay in this has kept me 



from writing, as I wanted to say it was done, as 
I trust it now will be very soon. I shall like, if at 
all practicable, to do another, but meanwhile 
Hughes is drawing the last block to prevent 
disappointment, and my second, if done, must take 
its chance with the publishers as an additional 
illustration. I hope, above all, they mean to have 
the drawings well cut. For my part I should like 
to tell them that they had better in my own case 
give the price of the drawing as an extra bonus 
to the engraver, and that then they must let me see 
a proof as soon as cut — the thing to be cancelled 
altogether if not approved of by me. I expect this 
might partly impress upon them that some care was 
necessary, and that there was a reputation of some 
sort in some quarters that I had to take care of. 

Do you see any objection to my following this 
plan ? I feel it both pleasure and credit to be 
associated at all with your volume, and should not 
like to cut too sorry a figure there, as it is a book 
which every one will be sure to see. 

I have had a hasty look (such as my leisure 
lately has left possible) through your MS., much of 
which is as exquisite as can be or ever has been 
—pure beauty and delight. The Queen of the 
Forest, Hughes tells me, is to be withdrawn, as 
capable of fuller treatment. I am quite of your 
mind about it, and chiefly because it is already so 


peculiarly lovely as to be worthy of any elaboration. 
The Alolian Harp in long lines is equal to any of 
that series, and I should have many things to say 
of many others, if the MS. were only by me. I 
must write of them when they are printed, and 
I hope talk of them too with you by that time. 
You mention having sent a copy of Day and Night 
Songs to Ruskin : did you remember that I had 
already given him one ? I trust he and you will 
meet when next in London. He has been back 
about a month or so, looking very well and in 
excellent spirits. Perhaps you know that he has 
joined Maurice's scheme for a Working Mens 
College, which has now begun to be put in operation 
at 31, Red Lion Square. Ruskin has most liberally 
undertaken a drawing-class, which he attends every 
Thursday evening, and he and I had a long confab 
about plans for teaching. He is most enthusiastic 
about it, and has so infected me that I think of 
offering an evening weekly for the same purpose, 
when I am settled in town again. At present I am 
hard at work out here on my picture, painting the 
calf and cart. , It has been fine clear weather, 
though cold, till now, but these two days the rain 
has set in (for good, I fear), and driven me to my 
wits' end, as even were I inclined to paint notwith- 
standing, the calf would be like "a hearth-rug after 
half an hour's rain ; but I suppose I must turn out 


to-morrow and try. A very disagreeable part of 
the business is that I am being obliged to a farmer 
whom I cannot pay for his trouble in providing calf 
and all, as he insists on being good natured. As 
for the calf, he kicks and fights all the time he 
remains tied up, which is 5 or 6 hours daily, and 
the view of life induced at his early age by 
experience in art appears to be so melancholy that 
he punctually attempts suicide by hanging himself 
at 3 J daily p.m. At these times I have to cut 
him down, and then shake him up and lick him 
like blazes. There is a pleasure in it, my dear 
fellow : the Smithfield drovers are a kind of opium- 
eaters at it, but a moderate practitioner might 
perhaps sustain an argument. I hope soon to be 
back at my rooms, as I have been quite long 
enough at my rhumes. (The above joke did 
service for MacCrac's benefit last night.) 

Before I came here I had been painting ever so 
long on a brick wall at Chiswick which is in my 
foreground. By the bye, that boating sketch of 
yours is really good in its way, and would bear 
showing to Ruskin as an original Turner — and 
perhaps selling to Windus afterwards. 

Many thanks for your minute criticism on my 
ballad, which was just of the kind I wanted. Not, 
of course, that a British poet is going to knock 
under on all points ; — accordingly, I take care to 


disagree from you in various respects — as regards 
abruptnesses, improbabilities, prosaicisms, coarse- 
nesses, and other esses and isms, not more 
prominent, I think, in my production than in its 
models. As to dialect there is much to be said, 
but I doubt much whether, as you say, mine is 
more Scotticised than many or even the majority 
of genuine old ballads. If the letter and poem were 
here, I might perhaps bore you with counter- 
analysis. But in very many respects I shall benefit 
greatly by your criticisms, if ever I think the ballad 
worth working on again, without which it would 
certainly not be worth printing. 

I have read Patmore's poem which he sent me, 
and about which I might sav a good deal of all 
kinds, if I felt up to it to-night ; but I don't. He 
was going to publish (and had actually printed the 
title) with the pseudonym of C. K. Dighton ; but 
was induced at the last moment to cancel the title, 
as well as a marvellous note at the end, accounting 
for some part of the poem being taken out of his 
former book by some story of a butterman and 
a piece of waste paper, or something of that sort ! 
(I see my description is as lucid as the note.) 

Did you see a paragraph in the ///. Lond. News 
headed Americans at Florence, and giving a longish 
account of a backwoods poem called Tlte New 
Pastoral, to be immediately published by Read? 


Have you seen anything of W. B. Scott's volume ? 
I may be able to send it you sooner or later, if you 
like. The title-page has a vignette with the words 
Poems by a Painter printed very gothically indeed. 
A copy being sent to old Carlyle, he did not read 
any of the poems, but read the title " Poems by 
a Printer." He wrote off at once to the imaginary 
printer to tell him to stick to his types and give up 
his metaphors. Woolner saw the book lying at 
Carlyle's, heard the story, and told him of his 
mistake, at which he had the decency to seem 
a little annoyed, as he knows Scott, and esteems 
him and his family. Now that we are allied with 
Turkey, we might think seriously of the bastinado 
for that old man, on such occasions as the above. 
This is the last of Brown's note-paper (I am 
staying with him here), so I must leave some other 
thing till next time, especially as it is fearfully late. 
Miss . Siddal is moderately well and making 
designs, etc. 

Yours affectionately, 

D. G. Rossetti. 

P.S. — Hughes asked me for Millais' address from 
[? for] you. The surest way I know of reaching 
him is to address to him at M. Halliday, Esq., 
3, Robert St., Adelphi. 


Notes on XV. 

The manuscript poems through which Rossetti 
had a hasty look form the second series of Day and 
Night Songs. The Queen of the Forest was 
published in Flower Pieces, a volume which bears 
the following inscription : " To Dante Gabriel 
Rossetti, whose early friendship brightened many 
days of my life, and whom I never can forget. 
W. A." " ' 

In Preterita (volume iii.) Ruskin thus traces 
" the story of his relations with the Working Men's 
College : — ' I knew of its masters only the Principal, 
F. D. Maurice, and my own friend Rossetti. It is 
to be remembered of Rossetti with loving honour, 
that he was the only one of our modern painters 
who taught disciples for love of them. He was 
really not an Englishman, but a great Italian 
tormented in the Inferno of London ; doing the 
best he could, and teaching the best he could ; but 
the ' could ' shortened by the strength of his animal 
passions, without any trained control, or guiding 

" I loved Frederick Maurice, as every one did 
who came near him ; and have no doubt he did 
all that was in him to do of good in his day. 
Which could by no means be said of Rossetti and 
me. . . . Maurice, in all his addresses to us, 
dwelt mainly on the simple function of a college as 
a collection or collation of friendly persons — not 
in the least as a place in which such and such things 


were to be taught and others denied ; such and such 
conduct vowed, and other such and such abjured. 

" So the college went on — collecting, carpentering, . 
sketching, Bible criticising, etc., virtually with no 
head ; but only a clasp to the strap of its waist, 
and as many heads as it had students. The leaven 
of its affectionate temper has gone far ; but how 
far also the leaven of its pride, and defiance of 
everything above it, nobody quite knows. . . . 
And finally, in this case, and many more, I have 
very clearly ascertained that the only proper school 
for workmen is of the work their fathers bred them 
to, under masters able to do better than any of 
their men, and with common principles of honesty 
and the fear of God to guide the firm.' " 

Rossetti wrote to W. B. Scott about this time : — 
" You think I have turned humanitarian perhaps, 
but you should see my class for the model ! None 
of your Freehand Drawing- Books used ! The 
British mind is brought to bear on the British 
mug at once, and with results that would astonish 
you." Of his method of teaching I have received 
the following account from a drawing-master who 
was one of the students of the college : — 

" I was not exactly a pupil of Rossetti's, although 
I was of Ruskin's. The classes were on the same 
floor, and there was constant communication be- 
tween them. We saw the work done, and discussed 
the methods and incidents. Rossetti began at once 
with colour, not with light and shade. At a time 
when this was heresy, when even Mr. Ruskin 


objected, Rossetti gave his students colour, and 
full colour, to begin with. Most of them could 
draw a little ; but even that would not have 
stopped him. Draw or not, he gave them colour. 
A teacher is supposed to analyze his subject, and 
prepare for its difficulties by giving beforehand 
its elements in a simple form, one at a time. 
Rossetti put a bird or a boy before his class, and 
said, ' Do it ' ; and the spirit of the teacher was 
of more value than any system. I look back to 
those times with great pleasure ; they have helped 
me much. Only about a month since a new 
syllabus for drawing for elementary schools was 
issued by the Government, in which children are 
allowed to use colour as soon as they begin. 
Here to-day we have, forty years afterwards, 
Rossetti s principle acknowledged by the Govern- 
ment. That it did not come direct from Rossetti, 
but by another and independent course, is some 
evidence in its favour. 

" Again. Rossetti often brought the works he 
was engaged on, in their incomplete state, for 
us to see. I remember some of them, and here 
again he helped me years afterwards ; but he 
did not generallv get the class to do what he 
was doing: himself. I think he should have 
required imaginative work trom all the class, — 
pictures from their own imagination of scenes 
from poetry, story, and myths." 

On March 19, 1S5S, Madox Brown recorded in 
his diary : — " At night went with Gabriel to the 


Working Men's College. There was a public 
meeting, and we heard Professor Maurice and 
Ruskin spouting. Ruskin was as eloquent as ever, 
and as wildly popular with the men. He flattered 
Rossetti hugely, and spoke of Munro in conjunction 
with Baron Marochetti, as the two noble sculptors 
of England whom all the aristocracy patronised." 
Towards November, 1858, Madox Brown took 
over Rossetti's class. 

The following account has been given me of 
Rossetti's residence at Finchley while he was 
working at Found. He had for some time been 
painting in Madox Brown's studio in town, when 
his friend took a small cottage at Finchley for 
himself, wife, and baby. Besides the kitchen it 
had but two rooms, a parlour and a bedroom. 
Rossetti wanted to paint a white calf. Brown, 
thinking that he would take only a day or two 
over such a piece of work, asked him to visit 
him. There was, he said, a farmyard on the 
other side of the road, where there were several 
calves ; as for a bed, he could have a mattress 
on the floor of the parlour. Rossetti, who had 
never painted a calf before, found greater diffi- 
culties in the subject than either he or his friend 
expected. Moreover, his ideas of the picture grew. 
Long before the sketch was finished the calf had 
grown too big, and another had to be provided. 
The visit was prolonged, to the great discomfort 
of the little family. Brown, who was most good- 
natured, took it all good-humouredly, though he 


would now and then complain to a friend that 
Gabriel would sit up half the night talking poetry, 
and lie half the dav in bed in their one sittingr-room, 
excluding Mrs. Brown and the baby. 

Before Rossetti went to Chiswick to paint the 
brick wall he wrote to his mother : — " Have you or 
Christina any recollection of an eligible and ac- 
cessible brick wall ? I should want to get up and 
paint it early in the mornings, as the light ought 
to be that of dawn. It should be not too countrified 
(yet beautiful in colour), as it is to represent a city 
wall. A certain modicum of moss would therefore 
be admissible, but no prodigality of grass, weeds, 
ivy, etc." 

YVindus, who was to buy Allingham's sketch, was 
a retired man of business, who lived in the village 
in which I spent my early days. He had inherited 
a fortune, it was said, from an uncle after whom he 
was named, the proprietor of a cordial by which 
many fretful infants had been soothed into the 
next world. He had a fine collection of the early 
Prseraphaelite pictures. Whether he had any real 
knowledge of painting I do not know. I have 
rarely seen any one who. to judge by external 
appearances, was farther removed from poetry or 
art. The following anecdote I have from my 
wife : — " I one day took some friends from the 
country to see Mr. Windus's collection of paintings 
in his very pretty old-fashioned house on Totten- 
ham Green. He was one of the earliest buyers 
of the P. R. B. work, and in one of the quaint 


panelled drawing-rooms Holman Hunt's Scapegoat 
hung over the fireplace, with one of Turner's 
drawings in his latest style on each side of it, and 
Millais's Vale of Rest on the opposite wall. Four 
rooms were thickly hung with pictures, and we 
found enough to keep us interested for some time. 
Before leaving, ' Let us go back into the first room,' 
I said, ' and have one more look at the 'Scapegoat. ' 
We did so, and then I gazed for some time at the 
Turner drawings, trying very hard to make out 
what they were about, and feeling that I was very 
dull of comprehension. 'It's of no use!' I ex- 
claimed at last : ' I cannot see what it means ! 
Those lovely shades of orange and blue and grey 
are beautiful, but I cannot for the life of me tell 
what they are meant to represent.' ' That only 
shows that you know nothing at all about it ! ' 
said a squeaky little voice over my shoulder ; and 
looking round, I saw that the owner of the 
pictures had come in, unperceived, and had over- 
heard my remark." 

Rossetti, in spite of his parentage (of his grand- 
parents, three were Italian, and only one was 
English), speaks of himself in this letter as "a 
British poet." " He liked England and the 
English," writes his brother, " better than any 
other country and nation. He was in many 
respects an Englishman in grain, and even a 
prejudiced Englishman. He was quite as ready 
as other Britons to reckon to the discredit of 
Frenchmen, and generally of foreigners, a certain 


shallow and frothy demonstrativeness ; too ready. 
I always thought.'' 

Patmore's poem was Tlie Angel in the House. 
He wrote to Allingham in October, 1S54: — "You 
will receive in a day or two a copy of a Poem by 
' C. K. Dighton,' under which name I wish, if 
possible, to pass for the present — chiefly because 
the weight of the Times attack on my father's 
book has fallen on me — even Punch abusing me 
by my full name on account of it. Only two or 
three of the P. R. B. coterie are in the secret." 
His full name was Coventry Kearsev Dighton 
Patmore. In the Times of August 19, 1854, 
there was a very long and unfavourable review 
of My Friends and Acquaintance, being memorials, 
mind portraits, and personal recollections of deceased 
celebrities of tlie nineteenth century. By T. G. 
Patmore. There is, I believe, no mention of 
Coventry Patmore in Punch. 

Thomas Buchanan Read was an American poet, 
and a painter by profession as well, author of 
Rural Poems, Lays, and Ballads. He died in 
1S72. "He was a curiously small man in stature, 
and had a pleasant little wife on exactly a corres- 
ponding scale." He had suffered with Rossetti 
under the unjust law of distraint. Mr. \Y. M. 
Rossetti wrote to Allingham on August 10, 1S50: — 
" As for Read, he left on Fridav week in something; 
of a hurrv and confusion, owing; to an execution 
for rent put into Gabriel's lodgings on the fugitive 
landlord's account ; whereby Read's trunk, etc. 


were, inter alia, laid under embargo; indeed, he 
has been compelled to leave them behind." 
Rossetti's landlord was a dancing-master, "who 
failed to pay his rent. According to the oppressive 
system of those days, the goods of his sub-tenant 
were seized to make good the default. Dante 
and I," continues his brother, "carried away a 
considerable number of books. The bulk of his 
small belongings was confiscated, and appeared 
to his eyes no more." 

According to Mrs. Howitt, Rossetti had come 
across some lyrics in the Philadelphia Cotirier, 
written from Hazeldell on the Schuylkill. " I 
was so delighted with them," he one day said to 
Allingham, " that I sent to Philadelphia for all 
the papers containing the poems from Hazeldell, 
cut them out and pasted them in a book." Alling- 
ham asked Read, whom he had met at the 
Howitts, whether he knew the unknown poet's 
name. As he spoke of Rossetti's admiration of 
the lyrics, " Read's face became crimson and his 
entire form agitated. ' I am the writer of those 
poems,' he replied with tears in his eyes." He 
had at first seemed to the Howitts " a timid 
nonentity, but we found him," Mrs. Howitt 
continues, ' ' a very generous, grateful young man, 
possessing much original power and fine discrimina- 
tion of art. At the close of 1870 we met him 
once more in Rome, where he was then residing 
with his gentle and wealthy wife (his second wife), 
and dispensing hospitality with a most lavish hand." 


Carlyle's blunder about W. B. Scott's book was 
the stranger as the title-page is as clear as a 
title-page can be. He could have looked only 
at the frontispiece. When he found out his mistake 
he wrote to Scott : — " It is too certain I have 
committed an absurd mistake, which indeed I 
discerned two weeks ago with emotion compounded 
of astonishment, remorse, and the tendency to laugh 
and cry both at once! The truth is I am pestered 
with incipient volumes of verses from young lads 
that feel something stirring in them ; on the 
frontispiece of your little volume I read Printer 
(not Painter), as I should have done . . . Fancying, 
therefore, it was an ingenious printer lad in your 
coaly town, who was rashly devoting his extra 
gifts, evidently rather valuable ones, to the trade 
of verse-making, I wrote and admonished (hastily 
reading five or six stanzas here and there) in the 
singular manner you experienced." 


Blacicfriars Bridge. 
Tuesday Evening, 23 January, 1855. 
Dear Allingham, 

I am sure you have attributed my silence 
for so long to its real motive — the wish to tell 
you, when I did write, that the block was finished 


at last. It is finished now. I shall keep it by 
me to-morrow for anything that may suggest itself, 
and give it next day to R[outledge] & Co., by 
whom I expect it to be walked round and looked 
at as a real curiosity found at length. I find 
Boyce knows the engraver, Dalziel, who, I believe 
is to do all the blocks, and he (Boyce) will plead 
their cause with him. 

I suppose no doubt the book is to be issued 
as speedily now as possible, when Millais has 
done his sketch, which was undone two nights 
ago, but I urged him with some indignant morality, 
and I have no doubt it will soon turn up. I 
hope my own drawing is not so bad as it looks 
to me now it is finished, but in any case I am sure 
it will not bear being made worse in the cutting. 
In this second edition of it I have tried to draw 
all the shadow in exact lines, to which, if the 
engraver will only adhere, I fancy it may have a 
chance, but hardly otherwise, as there is a good 
deal of strong shade — dangerous especially to the 
faces, but I could find no other way. 

If the delay in publishing should, owing to 
Millais or anything else, prove long enough, I 
should like much, and will try to find leisure for 
another block, but probably this "may not be." 
I have made one or two enquiries after the original 
of that ballad by Heine, and looked right through 


a pretty extensive collection of his poems in one 
volume, but without success. I hope for another 
chance of finding it in a few days through a German 
friend, who, I fancy, must know Heine's works 
well. I trust somehow still to write to you about it. 
The other day Moxon called on me, wanting 
me to do some of the blocks for the new Tennyson. 
The artists already engaged are Millais, Hunt, 
Landseer, Stanfield, Maclise, Creswick, Mulready, 
and Horsley. The right names would have been 
Millais, Hunt, Madox Brown, Hughes, a certain 
lady, and myself. No others. What do you 
think ? Stanfield is to do, Break, break, because 
there is the sea in it, and Ulysses, too, because there 
are ships. Landseer has Lady Godiva — and all in 
that way. Each artist, it seems, is to do about 
half-a-dozen, but I hardly expect to manage so 
many, as I find the work of drawing on wood 
particularly trying to the eyes. I have not begun 
even designing for them yet, but fancy I shall try 
the Vision of Sin and Palace of Art, etc., — those 
where one can allegorize on one's own hook on the 
subject of the poem, without killing for oneself and 
every one a distinct idea of the poet's. This, I 
fancy, is always the upshot of illustrated editions, — 
Tennyson, Allingham, or any one, — unless where 
the poetry is so absolutely narrative as in the old 
ballads, for instance. Are we to try the experiment 


ever in their regard? There are one or two or 
more of Tennyson's in narrative, — but generally the 
worst, I think, — Lady Clare, Lord of Burleigh, 
to wit. 

News must have grown so old since I wrote 
to you that most likely I shall forget the most of it. 
For myself, I got nearly finished (and shall make 
it do for quite, I think) with my calf and cart at 
Finchley, when I was laid up all of a sudden for 
some little time, through the wind blowing my 
picture down on my leg, which caused it to 
gather and create a nuisance. Since I got over 
this I have been water-colouring again, somewhat 
against the grain, and have not yet got my picture 
to London. I began my class last night at the 
Working Men's College : it is for the figure, quite 
a separate thing from Ruskin's, who teaches foliage. 
I have set one of them as a model to the rest, 
till they can find themselves another model. I 
intend them to draw only from nature, and some of 
them — two or three — show unmistakable aptitude — 
almost all more than one could ever have looked 
for. Ruskin's class has progressed astonishingly, 
and I must try to keep pace with him. The class 
proceeds quite on a family footing, and I feel sure, 
will prove amusing. 

You will be sorry to hear that Miss Howitt has 
been seriously ill since her father's return, and is 


still quite an invalide [sic], I have made an en- 
gagement to go and see them next week, having 
been absent from their circle a longer time than 
I meant. I am sure, if you ever have time to 
write to any of them, they will be really pleased to 
hear from you. 

Barbara Smith has been suddenly declared very 
ill — her lungs, I believe, are affected — and is gone 
to Rome — whence the news of her only just now 
begins to be rather better it seems. I wish there 
were any Rome for my good pupil, whose life 
might matter a little. She bears the cold weather, 
however, on the whole, better than I looked for, 
and of course progresses always as an artist. She 
is now doing two lovely water-colours (from We 
arc Seven, and La Belle Dame sans mcrct) — having 
found herself always thrown back for lack of health 
and wealth in the attempts she had made to begin 
a picture. 

The drawings will, I hope, soon be finished, and 
then I shall see what can be done with them — 
through Ruskin especially I hope. 

I have only one of your letters at hand, and hope 
I am omitting no answer required in the other. 
I remember, for one thino-, you asked me how 
I liked The Angel in the House. Of course it 
is very- good indeed, yet will one ever want to 
read it again ? The best passages I can recollect 


now are the one about " coming where women 
are," for the simile of the frozen ship — and the 
part concerning the "brute of a husband." From 
what I hear, I should judge that, in spite of idiots 
in the AthencBinn and elsewhere, the book will be 
of use to its author's reputation — a resolute poet, 
whom I saw a little while back, and who means 
to make his book bigger than the Divina Corn- 
media, he tells me. He and his are removed to 
Hampstead for the present, as perhaps you know. 

Woolner's chance for that commission seems to 
be up, I fear. He has been once more shabbily- 
treated by a committee, and is quite at a loss 
what to be at ; but I think, at any rate, he will 
produce one or two small groups here before 
returning to Australia. Millais has taken a studio 
at the corner of Langham Place, where a man 
has just run up some buildings especially for artists, 
and splendid affairs. He is painting his picture 
of a fireman rescuing some children, of which I 
think I spoke to you. Hunt will be back, I 
believe, before long. Seddon, who went with 
him, has returned, and has done some notable 
things for fidelity and completeness — the truest 
views of the country in some respects, I dare say, 
that have been done. Boyce has been to Venice 
again and is back. 

Poor North ! There was a long account of 


that doleful affair in the Daily News. He appears 
to have been going on in his usual style up to 
the very last, with a new comic paper in prospect, . 
an advertisement of which in MS. was just written 
and lying on his table. It (the advertisement) 
concluded comically enough by saying: — "Agents 
wanted in New Zealand, Australia, Polynesia, &c. 
N.B. — No cannibals need apply." 

Pray don't hurry about the Italian MSS., if 
hurying is to prevent my having your fullest 
marginal attention to them, which I really feel 
anxious to see, " and shall send another batch as 
soon as possible, being bent on publishing them 
at an early day with an acharnancnt almost Patmo- 
rian, though lately I have had no time to give to 
them. I have often turned in my mind your 
kind proposal about magazine publication for them, 
but cannot fully settle what I think about it till 
I have shown them to Ruskin, and tried what 
chance there might be of getting Smith and Elder 
to shell out something for them in a lump, which 
arrangement, if possible, I should prefer to any- 
other, especially as it would spur me on to a speedy 
completion of the book. 

By the bye Ruskin has procured a situation at 
Smith and Elder's for the youngest male Deverell 
— similar, I suppose, to what E. Blanchard had 
at Chapman's. You know Blanchard has given 


this up, and thrown himself on literature and a 
discerning public ! He sub-edits the Leader, and 
called on me the other day with a request involving 
you also, viz., that either or both of us would con- 
tribute poetry to that " organ." Finding there 
was no tin in the case I declined, but as he asked 
me still to ask you, promised to do so, which duty 
I now perform, though I told him he had no chance 
with you. Did you see Hannay's pill for M. F. 
Tupper in the Athenceum ? And by the bye, I 
am asked by William to request from you the 
re-postage of Athenceums when quite done with, as 
he requires them sometimes for reference to artistic 
matters as to dates, &c. 

I am awfully sleepy and stupid, or should try 
to say something about the only book I have read 
for a long while back — Crabbe, whose poems were 
known to me long ago, but not at all familiarly 
till now. I fancy one might read him much oftener 
and much later than Wordsworth — than almost any 

I must try and fill this paper. So I substitute one 
of my "clever" moments for the present helpless 
one, and copy you my last sonnet : — 

" The gloom which breathes upon me with these airs 
Is like the drops that strike the traveller's brow 
Who knows not, darkling, if they menace now 

Fresh storms, or be old rain the covert bears. 

Ah ! bodes this hour its harvest of new tares ? 


Or keeps remembrance of that day whose plough 

Sowed hunger since, — that night at last when thou, 
O prayer found vain ! didst fall from out my prayers ? 
How prickly were the griefs which yet how smooth, 

On cobwebbed hedgerows of this journey shed, 
Lie here and there till night and sleep may soothe ! 

Even as the thistledown from pathsides dead 
Gleaned by a girl in autumns of her youth, 

Which, one new year, makes soft her marriage bed." 

Does it smack, though, of Tupper at all ? — it 
seems to, in copying. The last simile I heard as a 
fact common in some parts of the country. 

I wish I could see you again ; I really do. 
When is it to happen ? Let us write again regu- 
larly, now that we feel reliability about the block. 

Yours D. G. R. 

Notes on XVI. 

Mr. W. M. Rossetti describes George Price 
Boyce, the water-colour painter, as " my brother's 
old and constant friend." 

The " certain lady " referred to in connection 
with the new Tennyson was, of course, Miss 
Siddal. About the time the new volume appeared, 
many of the Prseraphaelite artists were staying in 
Oxford. I well remember how they scorned the 
illustrations of some of those men whom Rossetti 
would have excluded. One of them even en- 
couraged me to scribble over the feeblest of the 
pictures in my copy of the work, promising to 


supply their places with designs of his own. I 
left the volume with him for many weeks, but 
nothing came of it. My book is still disfigured, 
and his promise is still unkept. 

How much Rossetti " allegorized on his own 
hook " in illustrating Tennyson is shown by his 
brother, who writes: — "It must be said that him- 
self only, and not Tennyson, was his guide. He 
drew just what he chose, taking from his author's 
text nothing more than a hint and an opportunity. 
The illustration of St. Cecilia puzzled Tennyson 
not a little, and he had to give up the problem of 
what it had to do with his verses." In an auto- 
graph letter of Rossetti's, in my collection, he says, 
" T. loathes mine [my designs]." 

Allingham wrote to W. M. Rossetti on August 
17, 1857: — "I spent one day with Clough near 
Ambleside, and two or three with Tennyson at 
Coniston, who is cheerful. His chief affliction 
now is the bad poetry which keeps showering on 
his head very fast. He ought to put up the 
umbrella of utter neglect, and talks of doing so. 
He praised the P. R. B. designs to his poems in 
a general way, but cares nothing about the whole 
affair." This mention of Coniston reminds me 
how, in my boyhood, I one day heard the curate 
of that village tell some brother clergymen that he 
could not think of knowing Mr. Tennyson, as the 
poet never went to church. 

The first of the two passages in The Angel in 
the House, which Rossetti praised is the following: — 


" Whene'er I come where ladies are, 

How sad soever I was before, 
Though like a ship frost-bound and far 

Withheld in ice from the ocean's roar, 
Third-wintered in that dreadful dock 

With stiffen'd cordage, sails decay'd, 
A crew that care for calm and shock 

Alike, too dull to be dismay'd, 
Vet if I come where ladies are, 

How sad soever I was before, 
Then is my sadness banish'd far, 

And I am like that ship no more ; 
Or like that ship if the ice-field splits, 

Burst by the sudden Polar spring, 
And all thank God with their warming wits, 

And kiss each other, and dance and sing, 
And hoist fresh sails, that make the breeze 

Blow them along the liquid sea, 
Out of the North, where life did freeze, 

Into the haven where they would be.'' 

How "resolute a poet" Patmore was is shown 
by the following passage in a letter he wrote to 
Allingham more than four years earlier : — " I am 
working hard at my Poem, and average six lines 
or so a day, which will brine, the affair about in 
six years or so ! " 

Hawthorne, who met him on the last day of 
1857, recorded in his note-book: — " The Angel in 
the House is a most beautiful and original poem ; 
but I doubt whether the generality of English 
people are capable of appreciating it. I told Mr. 
Patmore that I thought his popularity in America 
would be greater than at home, and he said that it 
was already so ; and he appeared to estimate highly 


his American fame, and also our general gift of 
quicker and more subtle recognition of genius than 
the English public." 

The Committee was that mentioned in Letter 
X., which was to report on Woolner's " com- 
petency " to make a statue of W. C. Wentworth. 

Of Thomas Seddon some account will be found 
in notes on Letters XXXIII. and XXXIV. 

" Poor North " was William North, whom Mr. 
W. M. Rossetti describes as "an eccentric literary 
man, not without a spice of genius, of whom we 
then [about 1849] saw a goodish deal — author of 
Anti-Coningsby and The Infinite Republic. He 
emigrated to the United States, and in 1854 com- 
mitted suicide." 

The literary editor of the Leader was G. H. 
Lewes. It is recorded in the Life of Anne Gil- 
christ that Carlyle one day speaking to him about 
that journal, " asked, ' When will those papers on 
Positivism come to an end ? ' 'I can assure you 
they are making a great impression at Oxford,' 
says Lewes. ' Ah ! I never look at them, it's so 
much blank paper to me. I looked into Comte 
once ; found him to be one of those men who go 
up in a balloon and take a lighted candle to look 
at the stars.'" The papers on Comte were by 

Of Hannay's review of the eighteenth edition 
of Proverbial Philosophy in the Athenceum for 
December 30, 1854, the following is a specimen: — 
" Probably Mr. Tupper's most distinguished talent 


is a certain judicious knowingness, which enables 
him to turn his labours to good pecuniary account. 
So at least it would appear from an advertisement 
at the end of this 'eighteenth edition,' where a 
French version of it is 'highly recommended for 
schools in conjunction with the English edition ! ' 
Mr. Tupper, in the frenzies of his inspiration, has 
still, it seems, an eye to the oven, and mounts the 
tripod to heave in coals at the kitchen window." 

Of Crabbe I only find one mention in D. G. 
Rossetti s Family Letters. Writing on October 8, 
1849, to Mr. W. M. Rossetti, who had written a 
poem entitled Airs. Holmes Grey, he says: — "Its 
story is more like Crabbe than any other poet I 
know of ; not lacking no small share of his harsh 
reality — less healthy and at times more poetical." 
It was, I suppose, Crabbe's "harsh reality" which 
so attracted Rossetti. 

Rossetti's "last sonnet," under the title of A 
Dark Day, is No. LXVIII. in Ballads and 
Sonnets. The only important alterations are in 
the tenth and eleventh lines, which now stand : — 

" Along the hedgerows of this journey shed, 
Lie by Time's grace till night and sleep may soothe 



Saturday, March 18, 1855. 
Dear Allingham, 

I am going to write a most vexatious 
letter — however, the news cannot be more so to 
you than to me, and its extreme disagreeableness 
has prevented my writing it before. That wood- 
block ! Dalziel has made such an incredible mull 
of it in the cutting that it cannot possibly appear. 
The fault, however, is no doubt in great measure 
mine — not of deficient care, for I took the very 
greatest, but of over-elaboration of parts, perplexing 
them for the engraver. However, some of the fault 
is his too, as he has not always followed my lines, 
but a rather stupid preconceived notion of his 
about intended " severity " in the design, which 
has resulted in an engraving as hard as a nail, and 
yet flabby and vapid to the last degree. In short, 
it is such a production as could give no, idea of 
anything like care or skill on the part of the 
designer — of anything but the most conceited at- 
tempt of a beginner to be grand and "severe." 
Before I sent in my drawing, however, to the 
engraver, I consulted a friend — Clayton, who has 
drawn much on wood — as to whether it were done 
in the right way for cutting, and he assured me it 
was not only adaptable but remarkably so : cer- 


tainly I kept every line as distinct as I could ; and 
on this account Clayton was of opinion that it was 
very much more the thing for the purpose than 
the drawings made by Hughes, which, however, 
turns out a complete mistake, as Hughes's draw- 
ings, also cut by Dalziel, have come, with one 
exception, quite remarkably well. Three or four 
of them are most beautiful designs, and will be 
worthy of your book. Before sending in the 
block I took the precaution to write to Routledge 
that, if not approved by me when cut, it must not 
appear, and Dalziel himself called on me before 
cutting it, and understood this, so that I must 
trust they will act accordingly, as I have written 
to Dalziel since also. If you like, I will send you 
the proof of it which I have, though at cost of 
considerable humiliation to myself, as you cannot 
possibly imagine by looking at it, even after this 
letter, hozv far different it is from my drawing — 
Hughes, Boyce, Woolner, and Clayton, who saw 
it before the cutting would tell you this. I would 
enclose the proof now, but really don't like to, 
before you've been prepared for the horror of it. 
All this is of course most vexatious for you 
and for me, especially after the delay which was 
made for the sake of this abortive attempt. Jllais 
que faire ? I have done my best and failed. As 
things have turned out, you could not wish it to 


be published more than I do, for it would disgrace 
your book as much as my capacities. 

Let me try to devote the rest of this second 
sheet to more pleasant news — news which would 
compensate me for a hundred bothers, and will, 
I am sure, go far to put you in a good temper, 
even after I have gone so far to try it. 

About a week ago, Ruskin saw and bought on 
the spot every scrap of designs hitherto produced 
by Miss Siddall. He declared that they were far 
better than mine, or almost than any one's, and 
seemed quite wild with delight at getting them. 
He asked me to name a price for them, after 
asking and hearing that they were for sale ; and 
I, of course, considering the immense advantage 
of their getting them into his hands, named a very 
low price, ^25, which he declared to be too low 
even for a low price, and increased to ^30. He 
is going to have them splendidly mounted and 
bound together in gold ; and no doubt this will 
be a real opening for her, as it is already a great 
assistance and encouragement. He has since 
written her a letter, which I enclose, and which, 
as you see, promises further usefulness. She is 
now doing the designs wanted. Pray, after read- 

I want much to have it by me and show to one or 
two friends ; and accompany it with a word or two 


[To face page in. 


as I want to know that you are not quite disgusted 
with me on account of that unlucky job. Ruskin's 
praise is beginning to bear fruit already. I wrote 
about it to Woollier, who has been staying for a week 
or two with the Tennysons ; and they, hearing that 
several of Miss Siddal's designs were from Tenny- 
son, and being told about Ruskin, etc., wish her 
exceedingly to join in the illustrated edition ; and 
Mrs. T. wrote immediately to Moxon about it, 
declaring that she had rather pay for Miss S.'s 
designs herself than not have them in the book. 
There is only one damper in this affair, and that 
is the lesson as to the difficulty of wood-drawing 
which I am still wincing under ; but she and I 
must adopt a simpler method, and then I hope 
for better luck. All this will, I know, give you 
real pleasure, so I write it at such length. 

By the bye, Miss Siddal reminded me after the 
sale of the design, which was my doing and quite 
unexpected, that we owe you a compensation, as 
one of them, the two nigger girls playing to the 
lovers, belonged to you, which I had, I am 
ashamed to say, forgotten, but remembered when 
she named it. She means to do another and 
better one for you, from one of your own poems, 
and meanwhile apologises with me for the mistake. 
Yours affectionately, 

D. G. Rossetti. 


Notes on XVII. 

" My brother," says Mr. W. M. Rossetti, " was 
exceedingly (I think overmuch) dissatisfied with 
the wood-cutting of the design of The Maids of 
Elfin-Mere." In a letter written a few months 
later Rossetti said : "It used to be by me till it 
became the exclusive work of Dalziel, who cut it. 
I was resolved to cut it out, but Allingham would 
not, so I can only wish Dalziel had the credit as 
well as the authorship." Dalziel said to Mr. 
Hughes : " How is one to engrave a drawing 
that is partly in ink, partly in pencil, and partly 
in red chalk?" "He took," Mr. Hughes tells 
me, ' ' a great deal of trouble ; but Rossetti was 
as impatient as a genius usually is. He wanted 
to crowd more into a picture than it could hold." 

Of J. R. Clayton I find mention in the following 
entry made by Madox Brown in his journal at 
the beginning of 1856 : — "The room was too full 
to talk, and Bill with a man named Clayton, 
jawed so nauseously about Ruskin and art, that 
I felt quite disgusted and said nothing." It was 
probably not so much art as Ruskin which made 
the "jaw " so nauseous. His constant silence about 
Brown's pictures sank deep into the painter's soul. 

Mr. W. M. Rossetti, writing of a period a" few 
weeks later than the date of this letter, says : — 
"Mr. Ruskin committed one of those unnumbered 
acts of generosity by which he will be remembered 
hardly less long than by his vivid insight into many 


things, and by his heroic prose. He wanted to 
effect one of two plans for Miss Siddal's advantage : 
either to purchase all her drawings one by one, as 
they should be produced, or else to settle on her 
an annual ,£150, he taking in exchange her various 
works up to that value. . . . This latter plan was 
carried into actual effect by May 3. It will easily 
and rightly be supposed that Rossetti used to find 
funds for Miss Siddal whenever required ; but his 
means were both small and fitful." None of her 
designs were included in the illustrated edition of 


Blackfriars Bridge, 

{Postmark, March 22, 1855]. 
Dear Allingham, 

I have been looking at the mangled 
remains of my drawing again by the light of your 
friendly letter, but really can only see it, in its 
present state, as a conceited-looking failure, and as 
to the execution, it is on a par with woodcut 
" Executions " in general ; only in such cases the 
" copy of verses " ought to be made to match. 

My wish was, and is, to make you a small water- 
colour, or pen and ink drawing, of the subject, 
as I should feel pleasure in doing it, and in your 
having it, in some shape ; and that, since we cannot 



hang the engraver, the drawing, at any rate, should 
receive no quarter. By the bye, I have written to 
Dalziel, and though my letter was not indited, at 
a severe crisis of punning, it seems to have treated 
the subject in a manner to make him crusty, as he 
has never answered. 

I showed the proof yesterday to Woolner, who 
saw the original drawing, and he was as shocked 
as myself. Nevertheless, I am not wholly unim- 
pressed by your unprejudiced view of it, I confess. 
Moreover, it would be possible to improve it a 
good deal, I believe — not by adding shadows, 
which, though very advisable (as in the finger you 
mention) would not be practicable ; but by cutting 
out lines, by which means the human character 
might be partially substituted for the oyster and 
goldfish cast of features, and other desirable changes 
effected. On getting your letter I marked parts 
of the proof with white, and find something might 
probably be done. But first I should like to show 
the whitened proof to one or two friends, and take 
their opinion as to whether, even if the changes 
were properly made, the thing could possibly be 
allowed to come out. I write to you before doing 
this, as I do not wish to delay answering. I confess 
I was most sincerely of opinion that, as I said, 
you would have an equal horror with myself at its 
appearing in your poems. At any rate I cannot 


at present conceive of its being brought to any 
state in which my name could be put to it, much as 
I should like my name to appear in your book. But 
the water-colour substitute would be the best. 

Perhaps before this reaches you 1 shall get from 

you Ruskin's letter to Miss S , but if you have 

not posted it before, pray do so at once on receiving 
this, as I think I may want it. Ruskin's interest 
in her continues unabated, and he is most desirous 
of benefiting her in any way in his power, and of 
her becoming a frequent visitor at his house. Some 
thoroughly fine day she and I are to pay him our 
first visit together. 

Now to answer your question about Dr. Polidori. 
The fact of his suicide does not, unfortunately, 
admit of a doubt, though the verdict on the inquest 
was one of natural death ; but this was a partly 
pardonable insincerity, arising from pity for my 
grandfather's great grief, and from a schoolfellow 
of my uncle's happening to be, strangely enough, 
on the jury. This death happened in the year '21, 
and he was only in his 26th year. I believe that, 
though his poems and tales give an impression only 
of a cultivated mind, he showed more than common 
talents both for medicine, and afterwards for law, 
which pursuit he took to, in a restless mood, after 
his return from Italy. The "pecuniary difficulties" 
were only owing, I believe, to sudden losses and 


liabilities incurred at the gaming-table, whither, in 
his last feverish days, he had been drawn by some 
false friend, though such tastes had always, in a 
healthy state, been quite foreign to him. I have 
met accidentally, from time to time, persons who 
knew him, and he seems always to have excited 
admiration by his talents, and with those who knew 
him well affection and respect by his honourable 
nature ; but I have no doubt that vanity was one 
of his failings, and should think he might have 
been in some degree of unsound mind. He was 
my mother's favourite brother, and I feel certain 
her love for him is a proof that his memory 
deserves some respect. In Medwin, in Moore, and 
in Leigh Hunt, and elsewhere, I have seen allusions 
to him which dwelt on nothing but his faults, and 
therefore I have filled this sheet on the subject, 
though, of course, as far as your proposed criticism 
goes, I am only telling you that the book tells truth 
in this particular. 

Write soon, and believe me, 

Yours affectionately, 

D. G. Rossetti. 

By the bye, I am delighted at your appreciation 
of Scott. I shrewdly suspect that the last time I 
heard you talk of him there " was nothing in him." 
[Allingham grates a little.] I think myself that 
Maryanne, with all its faults, is better worth writing 


than The Angel in the House. As exemplified in 
this poem, as well as in other respects, Scott is a 
man something of Browning's order, as regards his 
place among poets, though with less range and even 
much greater incompleteness, but also, on the other 
hand, quite ^without affectation ever to be found 
among his faults, and I think, too, with a more 
commonly appreciable sort of melody in his best 

Notes on XVIII. 

The following passage in Mr. W. M. Rossetti's 
work, entitled D. G. Rossetti as Designer and Writer, 
illustrates the difficulty Dalziel had in working with 
him : — " My brother was, no doubt, a difficult man 
with whom to carry on work in co-operation : 
having his own ideas, from which he was not to be 
moved ; his own habits, from which he was not to 
be jogged ; his own notions of business, from which 
he was not to be diverted. Co-operators, I can 
easily , think, railed at him, and yet they liked him 
too. He assumed the easy attitude of one born to 
dominate — to know his own place, and to set 
others in theirs. . . . He was a genial despot, good- 
naturedly hearty and unassuming in manner, and 
only tenacious upon the question at issue." 

Mr. W. M. Rossetti quotes the following passage 
from an undated letter of Ruskin's to his brother, 
evidently written later than the one in the text : — 


" I shall rejoice in Ida's success with her picture, 
as I shall in every opportunity of being useful 
either to you or her. The only feeling I have 
about the matter is of some shame at having 
allowed the arrangement between us to end as 
it did ; and the chief pleasure I could have about 
it now would be her simply accepting it as she 
would have accepted a glass of water when she was 
thirsty, and never thinking of it any more." 

The opinion formed of her by the Ruskin family 
when she visited them is recorded in a note on 
Letter III. 

John William Polidori, brother of Rossetti's 
mother, an Englishman by birth, took his degree at 
Edinburgh as doctor of medicine at the early age of 
nineteen. A year later, in 1816, he accompanied 
Lord Byron as his travelling-physician. In less 
than six months they parted company. Polidori 
returned to England. Abandoning medicine, he 
studied for the bar. He published two volumes of 
verse and two of prose. "In August, 182 1, the 
end came in a melancholy way : he committed 
suicide with poison, having through losses in 
gambling, incurred a debt of honour which he had 
no present means of clearing off. The jury 
returned a verdict of ' Died by the visitation of 
God.' " 

Moore, in his Life of Byron, describes " the 
strange sallies of this eccentric young man, whose 
vanity made him a constant butt to Lord Byron's 
sarcasm and merriment." Moore allows that " he 


seems to have possessed both talents and disposi- 
tion which, had he lived, might have rendered him 
a useful member of his profession and of society." 
One day, after an altercation with Byron, thinking 
his dismissal inevitable, " retiring to his room, he 
had already drawn forth the poison from his 
medicine-chest, when Lord Byron tapped at the 
door, and entered with his hand held forth in sign 
of reconciliation. The sudden revulsion was too 
much for poor Polidori, who burst into tears. He 
afterwards declared that nothing could exceed the 
gentle kindness of Lord Byron in soothing his 

Byron, writing of him, said : — ■" I know no great 
harm of him ; but he had an alacrity of getting into 
scrapes, and was too young and heedless ; and 
having enough to attend to in my own concerns, 
and without time to become his tutor, I thought it 
much better to give him his conge"." 

What could have been expected of a clever 
young fellow who had been turned by a university 
into a doctor of medicine at the age of nineteen, 
and then had had entrusted to his care the health of 
the most famous poet of the age ? 

" Scott " is William Bell Scott. Rossetti wrote 
on July 1, 1853 : — " Scott and I have looked 
through his poems together, and have made some 
very advantageous amendments between us. Rosa- 
bell, especially, is quite another thing, and is now 
called Maiy Anne." 

Mr. Holman Hunt, describing Rossetti's "store- 


house of treasures," says : — " If he read twice or 
thrice a long poem, it was literally at his tongue's 
end ; and he had a voice rarely equalled for simple 
recitations. Sordello and Paracelsus he would give 
by forty and fifty pages at a time. Then would 
come the pathetic strains of W. B. Scott's Rosabell." 

Mr. W. M. Rossetti has shown how groundless 
was Scott's assertion that the subject of Found was 
taken from Mary Anne. 

It will be seen in Letter XXVIII. how highly 
Browning's genius was valued by Rossetti — far more 
highly than the comparison with W. B. Scott 
indicates. " Browning," he wrote in 1871, "seems 
likely to remain, with all his sins, the most original 
and varied mind, by long odds, which betakes itself 
to poetry in our time." 


Thursday [March 23, 1855]. 
Dear Allingham, 

Your repeated wish to - day about the 
wood-cut is conclusive to me, of course, if on 
reading my yesterday's letter you do not prefer 
having a drawing on paper, which I wish you 
would. Let me hear at once, and if you con- 
tinue in favour of the cut, I will at once try 
and see Dalziel, and myself superintend, if he will 


stand it, such alterations as may be possible ; and 
on the degree of success with which he makes 
them I hope you will allow the appearance of my 
name to the drawing to depend. If he makes it 
look as I have made the proof look with white, 
it will be pretty tolerable comparatively, but I 
suppose that is not to be hoped. 

I have only the proof in question, which, as I 
may need it for this purpose, I do not send you. 

I write in haste and mid-work. 

Yours affectionately, 

D. G. R. 


May 11, 1855. 
Dear Allingham, 

Thanks for the returned MSS., which I 
ought to have acknowledged before, but this is 
absolutely the first evening I have been able to 
find since then for letter-writing. Your remarks 
in the margin I value much, and am sure I shall 
adopt many of the suggestions, if ever that book 
come to aught. Indeed, I have a further large 
relay of them in course of copying, which may 
perhaps meet your eye, if you care for them, and 
would no doubt benefit under your hand. I take 
one out at long intervals and copy and yawn ; 


but "is it not all in vain?" A man of many- 
journeys must needs find his path crossed here 
and there by some old hobby, each time, grown 
seedier and sleepier, and sometimes he may say: — 
" Now will I saddle thee, for where our pastures 
lay, there they lie ; " and, no doubt, so they do ; 
but even one's hobby is not so soft to ride as to 
lay one's head on ; and so they two snooze 
together. If either is ever woke up, it may be 
the hobby, which somebody saddles awry to fetch 
the sexton, to risk a cheap bell or so for him 
who is still asleep, and have him enough remem- 
bered to be forgotten. 

This fine writing, you'll say, is wronging you 
of news. Yesterday I took the MSS. to Ruskin, 
who, on hearing that they came from you, said 
you were one to whom he owed and would yet 
pay a letter of thanks, which he was sorry re- 
mained so long unwritten ; and therewith spoke 
again with great delight of your poems. He was 
not delighted, by the bye, with that design beyond 
designation which your readers are to suppose I 
did ; and he even saw it to great advantage, as 
I had been over the proof with white, to get 
Dalziel to alter parts of it. I have since given 
it him to do so, and have seen it in part done. 
Well ! I have supped full with horrors, served 
(out) in three courses, which, as Hood says, can't 


be helped. I wish D only had his desert as 

a finish. 

Meanwhile, how is Millais' design which I have 
not yet seen ? I hope it is only as good as his 
picture at the R.A. — the most wonderful thing he 
has done, except perhaps the Huguenot. He 
had an awful row with the hanging committee, 
who had put it above the level of the eye ; but 
J. E. M. yelled for several hours and threatened 
to resign, till they put it right. Anthony's land- 
scape of Stratford-on-Avon, a noble thing badly 
hung - — though, of course, not so badly. They 
have been running wilder than ever this year in 
insolence and dishonesty ; have actually turned out 
a drawing by Hunt (his pictures have not reached 
England ; I heard from him the other day, and 
he is likely to be back in two or three months) ; 
put the 4 best landscapes in the place — 3 by 
Inchbold, 1 by some new Davis — quite out of 
sight ; kicked out 2 pictures by one Arthur 
Husfhes — Orlando, and a most admirable little 
full-lenath of a child in a flannel nioht-o-own ; and 
played "warious games of that sort." There is 
a big picture of Cimabiu\ one of his works in 
procession, by a new man, living abroad, named 
Leisfhton — a husre thin?, which the Oueen has 
bought, which everv one talks of. The R.A.'s 
have been gasping for years for some one to 


back against Hunt and Millais, and here they 
have him ; a fact which makes some people do 
the picture injustice in return. It was very un- 
interesting to me at first sight ; but on looking 
more at it, I think there is great richness of 
arrangement — a quality which, when really exist- 
ing, as it does in the best old masters, and perhaps 
hitherto in no living man — at any rate English — 
ranks among the great qualities. 

But I am not quite sure yet either of this or of 
the faculty for colour, which I suspect exists very 
strongly, but is certainly at present under a thick 
veil of paint ; owing, I fancy, to too much conti- 
nental study. One undoubted excellence it has — 
facility without much neatness or ultra - cleverness 
in the execution, which is greatly like that of Paul 
Veronese ; and the colour may mature in future 
works to the same resemblance, I fancy. There is 
much feeling for beauty, too, in the women. As 
for purely intellectual qualities, expression, inten- 
tion, etc., there is little as yet of them ; but I think 
that in art richness of arrangement is so nearly 
allied to these that where it exists (in an earnest 
man) they will probably supervene. However, the 
choice of the subject, though interesting in a 
certain way, leaves one quite in the dark as to 
what faculty the man may have for representing 
incident or passionate emotion. But I believe, 


as far as this showing goes, that he possesses 
qualities which the mass of our artists aim at 
chiefly, and only seem to possess ; whether he 
have those of which neither they nor he give 
sign, I cannot yet tell ; but he is said to be only 
24 years old. There is something very French in 
his work, at present, which is the most disagree- 
able thing about it ; but this I dare say would 
leave him if he came to England. 

I suppose there is no chance of your having 
written an unrhymed elegy on Currer Bell, called 
Haworth Churchyard, in this Fraser, and signed 
"A." There is some thorough appreciation of 
poor Wuthering Heights in it, but then the same 
stanza raves of Byron, so you can't have done it ; 
not to add that it wouldn't be up to any known 
mark of yours, I think. 

You heard, I suppose, that Mac Cracken was 
going finally to sell his pictures in a lump at 
Christie's, but perhaps I wrote to you since the 
event. The utmost offered for Hunt's was 220 gs., 
so he retains it still, having put a reserve of ^300 
on it. My Annunciation, 76 gs. ; water-colour 
Dante, 50. These are both sold : 1st to one 
Pearse, I hear ; 2nd, to Combe of Oxford. 
Collins' St. Elizabeth only had 31 gs. bid, so he 
keeps that too. None of the other pictures went 
well, but I think the Bernal humbug has been 


settling all other sales lately. Hunt's father, who 
was at the sale, called on me with the above 
information, which I suppose is right. 

What do you think ? Collinson is back in 
London, and has 2 pictures in the R.A. The 
Jesuits have found him fittest for painting, and 
have restored him to an eager world. Woolner's 
Wentworth job is up, I fancy, altogether. How- 
ever, lately, owing to Woolner's writing a cheeky 
answer to a very snobbish letter of old W.'s, 
that magnanimous crittur seems to have restored 
him his confidence ; and if the statue is done 
(which seems very doubtful) I think Woolner 
may possibly do it. Your bust is in the R.A. 
and in rather a good place, and your lines also 
appear to Munro's Lovers in the catalogue, as 
well as to an admirable little picture by Hughes 
in the Patriotic Fund Exhibition. Munro's group 
of Ingram's children has been put by MacDowell 
in the place of honour in the Sculpture-room at 
the R.A. ! and is likely to do him great good. 

I would greatly like the walking tour you pro- 
pose this summer, and better with you than any 
one — now in good sooth, la ! But I don't know 
well yet what my abilities and advisabilities may 
be ; will write you of my probable movements as 
soon as I know them. 

Good - morning. I am just told very loudly 


that it is 3 a.m. ; and lo ! it is horridly light. 
Write soon, and I'll write soon. 

By the bye, this morning (12 May), through 
the first 2 hours of which I have slept over this 
letter, is the very morning on which I first woke 
up, or fell a-dreaming, or began to be, or was 
transported for life, or what is it? — 27 years ago! 
It isn't your birthday, so / can wish you many 
happy returns of it. 

Yours affectionately, 

D. G. Rossetti. 

Notes on XX. 

The MSS. which Rossetti took to Ruskin were, 
as the next letter shows, the translations of the 
Early Italian Poets with Allingham's critical 
remarks on the margin. 

Millais's design is entitled The Fireside Story. 
It illustrates the following stanza of Frost in the 
Highlands, in the second series of Day and 
Night Songs : — 

" At home are we by the merry fire, 
Ranged in a ring to our heart's desire. 
And who is to tell some wondrous tale, 
Almost to turn the warm cheeks pale, 
Set chin on hands, make grave eyes stare, 
Draw slowly nearer each stool and chair ? " 

His picture in the Royal Academy was The Rescue. 
On November 8, 1853, Rossetti wrote to his 
sister Christina : — " Millais, I just hear, was last 


night elected Associate. ' So now the whole Round 
Table is dissolved.'" His "awful row with the 
hanging committee " is mentioned in the Life of 
W. B. Scott, to whom " Woolner writing in May, 
1855, said that the Academy Committee hung 
Millais — even Millais, their crack student — in a 
bad place ; he being too attractive now ; but that 
celebrity made such an uproar the old fellows were 
glad to give in and place him better. Millais's 
amusement, when Woolner wrote, was to go about 
and rehearse the scene that took place at the 
Academy between him and the ancient magnates." 

Seddon wrote on May 3, 1855: — "The Academy 
opens on Monday. The hangers were of the old 
school, and they have kicked out everything tainted 
with Prseraphaelitism. My Pyramids, and a head in 
chalk of Hunt's ; and all our friends are stuck out 
of sight or rejected. Millais's picture was put where 
it could not be seen. ... He carried his 
point by threatening to take away his picture and 
resign at once, unless they re-hung him, which 
they did. He told them his mind very freely, 
and said they were jealous of all rising men, and 
turned out or hung their pictures where they 
could not be seen." 

Mark Anthony, the landscape painter, is 
described by Mr. W. M. Rossetti as "a fine 
genius, not adequately valued now." 

The drawing by Hunt turned out of the 
Academy was "a life-size crayon of his father, 
admirably finished." 


" Some new Davis " was William Davis, an 
Irish landscape painter, settled in Liverpool. 
Madox Brown wrote in May, 1856: — "There is 
a little landscape by Davis, of Liverpool, of some 
leafless trees and some ducks, which is perfection. I 
do not remember ever having seen such an English 
landscape ; it is far too good to be understood, 
and is on the floor." Four months later he 
wrote: — "This Davis, who has been one of the 
most unlucky artists in England (now about 
forty, with a wife and family), is a man with 
a fine-shaped head and well-cut features, and his 
manners are not without a certain modest dignity, 
though crushed by disappointment. Miller is the 
only man who buys his pictures." He died 
in April, 1874. At the sale of Mr. Leathart's 
collection on June 19, 1897, a small picture of his 
entitled An effect of J fist on the Mersey, was sold 
for fifty guineas. He and Inchbold were a second 
time companions in misfortune. In May, 1865, 
Madox Brown wrote : — " By the Daily Telegraph 
this morning it would appear that Davis as well 
as Inchbold has been rejected in loto." 

On Orlando, one of the two pictures kicked out 
of the Academy, Mr. Arthur Hughes had worked 
for some time in Rossetti's studio. He had long 
been painting scenes from As You Like It. This 
Orlando, he tells me, was done before he had 
attained sufficient mastery. How well he succeeded 
in the end is seen in the beautiful triptych illustrat- 
ing scenes from Shakespeare's play, in Mr. Sing's 



collection in Aigburth, Liverpool. The "child 
in a flannel nightgown " was his nephew, Edward 
Hughes, now well known as an artist. 

The " new man named Leigh ton " was Lord 
Leighton, the late President of the Royal Academy. 
His picture was entitled Cimabues Madonna carried 
in Procession through the Streets of Florence. 
Twenty-seven years later, at the Academy banquet, 
speaking of two artists lately dead, after mentioning 
one, he continued: — "The other was a strangely 
interesting man, who, living in almost jealous 
seclusion as far as the general world was concerned, 
wielded, nevertheless, at one period of his life, 
a considerable influence in the world of art and 
poetry, — Dante Gabriel Rossetti, painter and poet." 

Haworth Churchyard, in Frasers Magazine, 
" signed ' A,' " was not by Allingham, but by 
Matthew Arnold, who wrote to his mother on 
April 25th of this year: — "There will be some lines 
of mine in the next Fraser (without name) on 
poor Charlotte Bronte." The stanza which contains 
"some thorough appreciation of poor Wuthering 
Heights, but raves of Byron," is the following : — 

" Round thee they lie — the grass 
Blows from their graves to thy own ! 
She, whose genius, though not 
Puissant like thine, was yet 
Sweet and graceful ; — and she 
(How shall I sing her ?) whose soul 
Knew no fellow for might, 
Passion, vehemence, grief, 
Daring, since Byron died, 


That world-famed son of fire, — she, who sank 

Baffled, unknown, self-consumed ; 

Whose too bold dying song 

Stirr'd, like a clarion-blast, my soul." 

In his boyhood Rossetti had delighted in Byron. 
When he was sixteen years old, "some one told 
him," writes Mr. W. M. Rossetti, "that there 
was another poet of the Byronic epoch, Shelley, 
even greater than Byron. I do not think that he 
ever afterwards read much of Byron." 

Rossetti's Annunciation was his Ecce Ancilla 
Domini; the "water-colour Dante" was Dante 
drawing an Angel in Rlemory of Beatrice. Of 
this picture Mr. W. M. Rossetti gives the following 
explanation : — 

" Dante relates that, on the first anniversary of 
his lady's death, he was engaged in drawing an 
angel, in memory of her, when he found that certain 
persons had entered his chamber unperceived; and 
he then saluted them saying, ' Another was with 
me.'" On May 11, 1854, Rossetti wrote to his 
brother: — " I heard from MacCrac, who offers ^50 
for the water-colour, with all manner of soap and 
sawder into the bargain, — a princely style of thing." 
On this Mr. W. M. Rossetti remarks : — "That my' 
brother should have regarded ^50 for the water- 
colour as ' a princely style of thing ' shows how 
scanty was then the market for his productions." 

" Combe of Oxford " was the printer to the 
Clarendon Press. He made a collection of Prsera- 
phaelite paintings ; among them was Holman 


Hunt's Light of the World, which his widow gave 
to Keble College, Oxford, and this water-colour 
of Rossetti's, which, with other pictures, she be- 
queathed to the University Gallery. 

" Charles Alston Collins," a brother of Wilkie 
Collins, " was a young painter much under Millais's 
influence, and though not a member of the ' Brother- 
hood,' practically a Prseraphaelite." He died early. 
Why he and one or two others were never chosen 
into the Brotherhood is shown in the following 
quotation from Mr. Holman Hunt's article in the 
Contemporary Review for May, 1886: — " Outside 
of the enrolled body [the P. R.B.J were several 
artists of real calibre and enthusiasm, who were 
working diligently with our views guiding them. 
W. H. Deverell, Charles Collins, and Arthur 
Hughes may be named. It was a question whether 
any of these should be elected. It was already 
evident that to have authority to put the mystic 
monogram upon their paintings could confer no 
benefit on men striving to make a position. We 
ourselves even determined for a time to discontinue 
the floating of this red rag before the eyes of 
infuriate John Bull, and we decided it was better 
to let our converts be known only by their works, 
and so nominally Praeraphaelitism ceased to be. We 
agreed to resume the open profession of it later, 
but the time has not yet come. I often read in 
print that I am now the only Prseraphaelite. Yet 
I can't use the distinguishing letters, for I have 
no <B,'" 


I have heard Mrs. Combe relate a story, told also 
by Mr. Holman Hunt in this same paper, how 
Millais and Collins, when very young men, once 
lodged in a cottage nearly opposite the entrance 
of Lord Abingdon's park close to Oxford. She 
learnt from them that they got but poor fare, so 
soon afterwards she drove over in her carriage, and 
left for them a large meat-pie. Millais, she added, 
one day said to Mr. Combe : — " People had better 
buy my pictures now, when I am working for fame, 
than a few years later, when I shall be married and 
working for a wife and children." It was in these 
later years that old Linnell exclaimed to him : — 
" Ah, Mr. Millais, you have left your first love ; 
you have left your first love." 

"The Bernal humbug" was the sale for nearly 
,£71,000 of Ralph Bernal's collection of glass, plate, 
china, and miniatures. 

Of James Collinson the following account is given 
by Mr. Holman Hunt in the Contemporary Review : — 
" He had been a meek fellow student ; painstaking 
he was in all his drawings, and accurate in a sense, 
but tame and sleepy, and so were all the figures he 
drew. ... It was a surprise to all when, in the 
year 1848, he appeared in the Exhibition with a 
picture called The Charity Boys Debut. ... It 
transpired that he had roused himself up of late to 
enter the Roman Church, and that thus inspirited 
he had made the further effort to paint this picture. 
It was natural for all the students to blame them- 
selves for having ignored Collinson, but Rossetti 


went further, and declared that ' Collinson was a 
born stunner,' and at once struck up an intimate 
friendship with him. When the Prseraphaelite 
Brotherhood was inaugurated he at once enrolled 
Collinson as one who wanted only the enthusiasm 
which we had to make him a great force in the 
battle. ... At our monthly meetings he invariably 
fell asleep at the beginning, and had to be waked 
up at the conclusion of the noisy evening to receive 
our salutations. He never could see the fun of 
anything, and I fear we did not make his life more 
joyful. . . . Even in the day he was asleep over 
the fire, with his model waiting idle, earning his 
shilling per hour all the time. But at the last 
moment he unexpectedly waked up, sent in his 
resignation as a Prseraphaelite Brother — ungrateful 
man ! — sold his lay figure and painting material by 
forced sale, and departed to Stonyhurst to graduate. 
At the end of a twelvemonth or so he abandoned 
the^ idea of conventual or priestly life, again took 
to painting, and, I believe, executed many very 
creditable pictures of a modest character." 

According to W. B. Scott, "at the seminary they 
set Collinson to clean the boots as an apprenticeship 
in humility and obedience. They did not want him 
as a priest ; they were already getting tired of that 
species of convert, so he left, turned to painting 
again, and disappeared." 

Allingham's bust was by Munro. The lines in 
The Academy Catalogue on that sculptor's Lovers 
Walk are from Allingham's Wayside Well : — 


" Sweet shall fall the whisper'd tale, 
Soft the double shadow." 

Mr. Hughes tells me that " the Patriotic Fund 
Exhibition was a collection of drawings and paint- 
ings chiefly by amateurs, got up for exhibition and 
sale for the benefit of the widows and orphans of 
the soldiers who fell in the Crimean War. I gave 
a little painting of a soldier returned minus an arm 
to his wife and baby, both of whom he managed to 
embrace, I remember, somehow with the remaining 
one. I quoted for it from Spring is Come : — 

1 Some voices answer not thy call 
" When sky and woodland ring, 
Some voices come not back at all 
With primrose blossoming.' " 

Patrick Macdowell was an Irish sculptor — a 
member of the Royal Academy. 

" Rossetti was born on May 12, 1828, at No. 38, 
Charlotte Street, Portland Place, London, and was 
baptized at All Souls' Church, Langham Place, as a 
member of the Church of England." 

To sit up till three in the morning was no un- 
common thing with Rossetti. One of his comrades 
in his student days describes how " his cheeks were 
roseless and hollow enough to indicate the waste 
of life and midnight oil to which the youth was 



Clevedon, Somersetshire, 

June 25, 1855. 
Dear Allingham, 

I'm thanking you here for your book 

received in London a week or so ago, and don't 

exactly know whether you are at New Ross or 

Ballyshannon now, and have a suspicion you'll 

soon be visible (and heartily welcome) in London, 

whither I return to-day, after a day or two only 

here ; and write now, having got up at 6 in the 

morning, and being too early to go to breakfast 

with Miss Siddal, whom I came to see here. She 

is rather better just now, and will probably go 

to winter somewhere abroad. Your volume has 

accompanied her and me on excursions, and been 

read at home too. 

I have such a strong idea that I am to see you 

soon that I sha'n't enter so much into the poems as 

I otherwise should now, but my favourites among 

the new ones are the 2 Harps, The Pilot's Daughter, 

St. Margaret 's Eve, The Girl's Lamentation, The 

Sailor (both these last most admirable), and Would 

I Knew. The Nobleman s Wedding I really don't 

think at all improved [Ah ! it is ! W. A.J, and am 

not at all sure about the close of The Pilot's 

Daughter. The Music Master is full of beauty 

and nobility, but I'm not sure it is not TOO 

noble or too resolutely healthy. 


London, July 4. 
I had to break off in the above, and go on with 
it to-day, instead of beginning afresh, to prove that 
I was not waiting for you to write, as I remem- 
bered well owing you two or three, though one of 
mine had been lost for some time. Yours was very 
welcome on Monday. Going on about The Mtisic 
Master, I see the sentence already written looks 
very iniquitous, and perhaps is ; but one can only 
speak of one's own needs and cravings : and I must 
confess to a need, in narrative dramatic poetry 
(unless so simple in structure as Auld Robin Gray, 
for instance), of something rather "exciting," and 
indeed I believe something of the " romantic " l 
element, to rouse my mind to anything like the 
moods produced by personal emotion in my own 
life. That sentence is shockingly ill worded, but 
Keats's narratives would be of the kind I mean. 
Not that 1 would place the expressions of pure 
love and life, or of any calm, gradual feeling or 
experience, one step below their place, — the very 
highest ; but I think them better conveyed at less 
length, and chiefly as from oneself Were I speak- 
ing to any one else, I might instance (as indeed I 
often do) the best of your own lyrics as examples ; 
and these will always have for me much more 

1 In the original schoolgirl, which preceded romantic, has been 
scored out. 


attraction than The Music Master. The latter, I 


think, by its calm subject and course during a 
longish reading, chiefly awakens contemplation, like 
a walk on a fine day with a churchyard in it, instead 
of rousing one like a part of one's own life, and 
leaving one to walk it off as one might live it off. 
The only part where I remember being much 
affected was at the old woman's narrative of Milly's 
gradual decline. Of course the poem has artistic 
beauties constantly, though I think it flags a little 
at some of its joints, and am not sure that its 
turning-point would not, have turned, in vain for 
me at first reading, if I had not in time remembered 
your account of the story one day on a walk. After 
all, I fancy its chief want is that it should accom- 
pany a few more stories of deeper incident and 
passion from the same hand, when what seem to 
me its shortcomings might, I believe, as a leavening 
of the mass, become des qualith. As I have stated 
them, too, they are merely matters of feeling, and 
those who felt differently (as Patmore, who thinks 
the poems perfect) might probably be at the higher 
point of view. P. was here last night with Cayley 
and one or two more. We sat all the evening on 
my balcony, and had ice and strawberries there, 
and I wished for you many times, and meanwhile 
put in your book as a substitute (having, you may 
be sure, torn out that thing of Dalziel's). 


I have propagated you a little — among other 
cases, to a man named Dallas the other day, who 
has just come to settle in London, having written 
a book called Poetics, and being a great chum of 
A. Smith — i.e., the Smith — and Dobell. After 
reading him much of you I enunciated opinions 
of a decisive kind as to the relative positions of 
our rising geniuses, and was rather sorry for argu- 
ment's sake to find him not unsympathising. 

I'm glad you've heard from Ruskin, and hope 
that you may find time in your week to arrange 
somehow a -meeting- with him. He has been into 
the country, and unwell part of the time, but is now 
set up again and very hard at work. I have no 
more valued friend than he, and shall have 
much to say of him. Of other friends, you'll 
find Woolner (27, Rutland St., Hampstead Road, 
his house; 64, Margaret St., Cavendish Sq., 
his study). Patmore, and Hannay get-at-able, 
besides Munro and Hughes, with whom you've 
been en rapport. Aly rapports you ask of with 
that "stunner" stopped some months ago, after a 
long stay away from Chatham Place, partly from a 
wish to narrow the circle of flirtations, in which she 
had begun to figure a little ; but I often find myself 
sighing after her, now that "roast beef, roast 
mutton, gooseberry tart," have faded into the light 
of common day. " O what is gone from them I 
fancied theirs ? " 


Have you seen Eustace Conyers? It is admir- 
able in all Hannay's qualities, and a decided 
advance on Fontenoy. I congratulate you on 
your change of place, and myself on the prospect 
of your going farther, i.e., London, so soon for a 
while, and I trust not faring worse. Mind, I have 
nothing to show worth showing. Ruskin has been 
reading those translations since you, and says he 
could wish no better than to ink your pencil-marks 
as his criticisms. He sent here, the other day, a 
stunner, called the Marchioness of Waterford, who 
had expressed a wish to see me paint in water- 
colours, it seems, she herself being really first-rate 
as a designer in that medium. I think I am going 
to call on her this afternoon. There, sir ! R. has 
asked to be introduced to my sister, who accord- 
ingly, will accompany Miss S. and myself to dinner 
there on Friday. 

That building you saw at Dublin is the one. I 
must have met Woodward, the architect of it, at 
Oxford (where he is doing the new museum), and 
talked of you to him, just at the time you were in 
Dublin, as I heard immediately after, and therefore 
did not send on to you his full directions how you 
should find him (or his partner, if he were away) 
and see all his doings there, which, however, can 
come off another time. He is a particularly nice 
fellow, and very desirous to meet you. Miss S. made 


several lovely designs for him, but Ruskin thought 
them too good for his workmen at Dublin to carve. 
One, however, was done (how I know not), and is 
there ; it represents an angel with some children 
and all manner of other things, and is, I believe, 
close to a design by Millais of mice eating corn. 
Perhaps though they were carved after your visit. 

I haven't seen Owen Meredith, and don't feel 
the least curiosity about him. There is an interest- 
ingish article on the three " Bells " in Tail this 
month, where Wtithering Heights is placed above 
Currer for dramatic individuality, and it seems 
C. B. herself quite thought so. 

I'll say no more, as I hope so soon to see you, 
but am ever your affectionate friend, 

D. G. R. 

Notes on XXI. 

Rossetti had been at Clevedon with Miss Siddal, 
who had gone there for the sake of her health. 
Writing to his mother he said : — " The junction of 
the Severn with the Bristol Channel is there, so 
that the water is hardly brackish, but looks like sea, 
and you can see across to Wales, only eight miles 
• off, I think. Arthur Hallam, on whom Tennyson 
wrote In Memoriam, is buried at Clevedon, and we 
visited his grave." 


'■ There twice a day the Severn fills ; 
The salt sea-water passes by, 
And hushes half the babbling Wye, 
And makes a silence in the hills." 

The poems mentioned by Rossetti are in Day 
and Night Songs. " Throughout his life," writes 
his brother, " the poetry of sentimental or reflective 
description had a very minor attraction for him." 
To Mr. Edmund Gosse Rossetti wrote in 1873 : — 
"It seems to me that all poetry, to be really en- 
during, is bound to be as amusing (however trivial 
the word may sound) as any other class of litera- 
ture ; and I do not think that enough amusement to 
keep it alive can ever be got out of incidents not 
amounting to events." Rossetti here uses amusing 
much as Johnson used it when he wrote that 
" Coriolanus is one of the most amusing of our 
author's performances." 

From his balcony Rossetti had a fine outlook on 
the Thames. The house was swept away when the 
river was embanked. It stood in front of the site 
now occupied by the eastern end of Keyser's Royal 
Hotel, so near to Blackfriars Bridge that a stone 
could have been pitched on to it from the balcony. 
One of the rooms facing southwards was very sunny. 
At the window he would loll sometimes for hours 
together, looking at the people passing over the 
bridge. To watch this living stream flow by had 
an endless fascination for him. He used to tell the 
story that, one day, he and another of the Brother- 
hood were thus lolling, when they both cried out, 


" Why, there goes Deverell ! " At that hour 
Deverell died. 

Eneas Sweetland Dallas published Poetics, an 
Essay on Poetry, in 1852. Mr. G. C. Boase in 
his article on him in the Dictionary of National 
Biography, says that for many years he was on the 
brilliant staff of John T. Delane, the editor of the 
Times. In 1868 he edited Once a Week. He 
died in 1879. " He had a singularly handsome 
presence and charming manners — his conversation 
was bright and courteous." 

Of Alexander Smith there is further mention in 
Letter XXXII. Of Sidney Dobell's Keith of 
Ravclston Rossetti wrote in 1868 : — " I have always 
regarded that poem as being one of the finest, of 
its length, in any modern poet. What a pity it is 
that he generally insists on being so long-winded, 
when he can write like that ! " 

The friendship between Rossetti and Ruskin did 
not last. " Gradually," writes Mr. W. M. Rossetti, 
"the intimacy between the two friends relaxed. 
Rossetti, as he advanced in years, in reputation, and 
in art, became less and less disposed to conform his 
work to the likings of any Mentor — even of one for 
whom he had so genuine an esteem as he enter- 
tained for Mr. Ruskin ; while the latter, serenely 
conscious of being always in the right, laid down 
the law, and pronounced judgment tempered by 
mercy, with undeviating exactness. At last the 
relations between the painter and critic became 
strained — one was so earnest to enlighten the other, 


and the other was so difficult to be enlightened out 
of his own perceptions and predilections ; and it 
may have been in 1865 or 1866 that Ruskin and 
Rossetti saw the last of one another — mutually 
regretful, and perhaps mutually relieved, that it 
should be the last." 

"That 'stunner'" was clearly the "Belle pas 
Sauvage " of Letters VII. and IX. In my under- 
graduate days at Oxford when not unfrequently I 
was in Rossetti's company, I one day heard him 
maintain that a beautiful young woman, who was on 
her trial on a charge of murdering her lover, ought 
not to be hanged, even if found guilty, as she was 
" such a stunner." When I ventured to assert that 
I would have her hanged, beautiful or ugly, there 
was a general outcry of the artistic set. One of 
them, now famous as a painter, cried out, " Oh, 
Hill, you would never hang a stunner!" 

" O what is gone from them I fancied theirs ? " is 
borrowed with a slight change from the last line of 
sEolian Harp in the second series of Allingham's 
Day and Night Songs. 

" Gift books have rather poured in on me lately," 
wrote Rossetti to his mother a few days after the 
date of this letter ; " Hannay's new novel, Eustace 
Conyers, very first-rate in Hannay's qualities, and a 
decided advance on Fontenoy." 

A little earlier he had written to her: — "An 
astounding event is to come off to-morrow. The 
Marchioness of Waterford has expressed a wish to 
Ruskin to see me paint in water-colour, as she says 


my method is inscrutable to her. She is herself an 
excellent artist, and would have been really great, I 
believe, if not born such a swell and such a stunner." 

Mr. Holman Hunt gives the following account of 
a visit he received from her : — " With The Light of 
the TJ^orM standing nearly complete upon the easel, 
I was surprised one morning by the sound of 
carriage wheels driven up to the side door, a very 
loud knocking, and the names of Lady Canning and 
the Countess of Waterford preluding the ascent of 
the ladies. I think they said that Mr. Ruskin had 
assured them that they might call to see the picture. 
My room, with windows free, overlooking the river, 
was as cheerful as any to be found in London ; but 
I had not made any effort to remove traces of the 
pinching suffered till the previous month or so, and 
to find chairs with perfect seats to them was not 
easy. But the beautiful sisters were supremely 
superior to giving trace of any surprise. It might 
have seemed that they had always lived with broken 
furniture by preference." An account of the sisters 
has been lately written by Mr. Augustus J. C. Hare 
under the title of The Story of Two Noble Lives. 
There is no mention of these visits to the two 

On Benjamin Woodward's death in 1861 Rossetti 
wrote of him to Alexander Gilchrist : — " He built 
the new Crown Insurance Office in New Bridge 
Street, Blackfriars, close to my studio. It seems to 
me the most perfect piece of civil architecture of the 
new school that I have seen in London. I never 



cease to look at it with delight. I must have been 
the last friend who saw him in England. ... I am 
sitting now in the place, and I think in the chair he 
sat in, to write this. If I am ever found worthy to 
meet him again, it will be where the dejection is 
unneeded which I cannot but feel at this moment.; 
for the power of further and better work must be 
the reward bestowed on the deserts and checked 
aspirations of such a sincere soul as his." 

Allingham wrote to Mr. W. M. Rossetti on May 
28, 1855 : — " Yesterday in Dublin I saw but hastily 
the part-finished building in Trinity College, with 
numberless capitals delicately carved over with 
holly leaves, shamrocks, various flowers, birds, and 
so on. Ruskin has written to the architect, a young 
man, expressing his high approval of the plans ; so 
by and by all your cognoscenti will be rushing over 
to examine the Stones of Dublin." 

My friend, Professor Dowden, tells me that he 
has looked in vain for the mice eating corn. Sir 
Thomas Deane, the son of Woodward's partner, is 
sure that neither Millais's nor Miss Siddal's design 
was used. 

The second Lord Lytton, under the name of 
Owen Meredith, published this year Clytemnestra, 
The Earl's Return and Other Poems. 



Tuesday 17 [July, 1855]. 
Dear Allingham, 

I think the enclosed is from Miss Bessie 
Parkes, and I have from the same lady a copy 
of her poems sent here for you. Are you coming 
up after all, or will the narrow gaugers clip your 
wings? I've been expecting and wishing much 
for you. 

Scott has been in town and leaves to-morrow. 
I write this note in great haste. Am I to send the 
book on ? 

Your affectionate, 

D. G. R. 

Note on XXII. 

"The narrow gaugers" — though perhaps it is 
hardly necessary to explain the pun — were Ailing- 
ham's superior officers in the Customs, who were, 
Rossetti implies, ungenerous in their treatment of 
him. There is a reference of course to the narrow- 
gauge railways. 



Chatham Place. 

Saturday \_July, 1855]. 
Dear Allingham, 

Come here by all means. Bed, too, if 
you like. 

If you have time and inclination while in Dublin 
to call on Woodward, his address is 3, Upper 
Merrion Street. If he were away, he told me his 
partner Sir Thos. Deane, or their managing man, 
whose name. I forget, would with pleasure show 
you their works in hand. 

All here will be glad to see you, and I not the 

Your D. G. R. 

Should I by any chance be out when you come 
here, feel for key of centre door under right hand 
door mat. In key's absence call at top of kitchen 
stairs for housekeeper, Mrs. Burrell. 

Excuse dirty paper — only bit I could find. 



Sunday \_Jttly, 1855]. 
Dear Allingham, 

How beastly of them Customs' 'ogs ! I 

and every one had been on the look out for you. 

I wish I could come to the lakes with you, but 

it's quite out of the question just now, though 

nothing would delight me more. I think it seems 

possible I may be going on the Continent this 

autumn. Miss S. is going — to Florence possibly, 

and a lady, a cousin of mine, is to be with her 

most likely, so this might render my joining the 

party possible. She will in any case settle abroad 

for some time, in a climate less changeable than 

this — France* or Italy. The wizard in the case 

being of course J. R. [John Ruskin] who you know 

is to have all she does for some time. 

Thus, till this move is settled or quashed, i.e.. 

my part in it, I must bide at my work, such as it 

is. I don't find what I'm about at all amusing, 

and should have been peculiarly solaced by a sight 

of you — but it wasn't to be. Let's go on writing 

to each other instead at any rate. 

Your affectionate D. G. R. 

Note ox XX IV. 
Dr. (now Sir Henry) Acland, who had been 


consulted about Miss Siddal's health, " opined," 
writes Mr. W. M. Rossetti, " that her lungs were 
nearly right, the chief danger consisting in ' mental 
power long pent up, and lately overtaxed.' He 
advised her to leave England before cold weather 
set in ; and this she did towards the latter end of 
September, having as companion a Mrs. Kincaird, 
a cousin of ours, who knew something of French 
and continental life." 


Sunday night, 

29th [post-mark July, 1855]. 
Dear Allingham, 

"I had this pleasure" (Mac Crackice) 
this morning, and this evening Seddon is wanting 
to send a picture to Liverpool Exhibition, and 
doesn't know how, and I undertook to communicate 
for him with Mr. Oakes, who is, I believe, Sec. 
to the L. Ex. But I don't know Mr. O.'s address 
(Allingham— " Well, do I ? ") No ; but Mr. Miller 
could no doubt put you in the way of it, and you 
could put it on the envelope and seal and post 
same in some Liverpool letter-box, or deliver, if so 

If Mr. Oakes should by chance be no longer in 


the above capacity, would you (if you can without 
any awkwardness) ask Mr. Miller himself to read 
the letter (apologising for the liberty I should be 
taking), as I feel confident he could expedite 
Seddon's affair equally well. 

If you would find this at all awkward, let me 
know at once of Mr. O.'s unavailability, and I'd 
write at once to Mr. M. Please do as much of 
all this as proves necessary and excuse trouble. . . . 

I'm very sleepy. Good-night. 

Your D. G. R. 

Would you oblige me with a prompt word in 

Notes on XXV. 

Of Mr. John Miller of Liverpool Madox Brown 
wrote on September 25, 1856: — "This Miller is 
a jolly, kind old man, with streaming white hair, 
fine features, and a beautiful keen eye like Mul- 
ready's ; a rich brogue [he was Scotch not Irish] 
a pipe of Cavendish, and a smart rejoinder, with 
a pleasant word for every man, woman, and child 
he meets, are characteristics of him. His house 
is full of pictures, even to the kitchen. Many 
pictures he has at all his friends' houses, and his 
house at Bute is also filled with his inferior ones. 
His hospitality is somewhat peculiar of its kind. 
His dinner, which is at six, is of one joint and 
vegetables, zvithotU pudding — bottled beer for drink 


— I never saw any wine. After dinner he instantly 
hurries you off to tea, and then back again to 
smoke. He calls it a meat tea, and boasts that 
few people who have ever dined with him come 
back again." 

Mr. W. M. Rossetti describes him as " one of 
the most cordial, large-hearted and lovable men 
I ever knew." He was so strong in belief as to 
be a sceptic as regards the absence of belief. I 
once heard him say, in his strong Scotch accent, 
" An atheist, if such an animal ever really existed." 
What the suppositious animal would do I forget. 


Friday [_A ugust, 1855]. 
Dear Allingham, 

I'm sending you on two letters, to Mr. 
Miller's at I[sle] of Bute, as you told us, thinking 
you'll have left Edinb[urgh] by now. I'd have 
sent them on before this to Liverpool, but thought 
letters wouldn't reach you if you had left L., and 
had given up the idea of your getting mine for 
Mr. Oakes. As it is, pray thank Mr. Miller much 
from Seddon and self for the trouble we're putting 
him to. I'm sure he'd agree with me as to the 
advantage of securing S's picture for the L. 


But now — further — I have a long parcel for 
Miss C. Allingham to W. A. Esq., care of 
D. G. R., dated July 30, and brought by carrier : — 
further — I have B. R. Parkes' volume for you ; — 
further — a Mr. Delap (I think) called for you, and 
I told him I'd tell you. Furthest — What am I 
to do with the two parcels ? 

Miss S. is here, and thanks you very much for 
your book with which she's delighted. 

In haste, 

Yours affect. 

D. G. R. 

Note on XXVI. 

The book for which Miss Siddal thanked 
Allingham was his Day and Night Songs. 


Tuesday [August, 1855]. 
Dear Allingham, 

I've just got your note and sent on the 
long parcel, with Miss Bessie's book, to Chancery 

I'm surprised you didn't know of Millais' mar- 
riage, as it was in the papers — the Leader had slip- 
ped it in somehow among the Deaths ! He is going 


to live for a year at or near Perth, and wrote to 
some one the other day that he was "perfectly 
aghast at his own happiness." 

That's a stupid enough notice of The Music 
Master, &c, in the Athenceum, in all conscience. 
I wonder who did it — -some fearful ass evidently, 
from the way he speaks of Millais as well as of 
you. I saw some notes for a notice by William 
the other day, which of course is to be the Koh-i- 
noor of the lot. W. has just returned from a 
trip (walking chiefly), to Stratford-on-Avon, Kenil- 
worth, &c, which I made and revelled in two 
years back. He is going on immediately to Paris. 

. . . Did I offer you the loan of Hannay's 
novel ? It is engaged to one person yet, after 
which I'll send it if you like. 

Write soon and so will I. This is written in 
a hurry, with a water-colour (which I hate) waiting 
for me. 

Yours affectionately, 

D. G. R. 

I re-open the letter to enclose a little excite- 
ment which please return. 

Notes on XXVII. 

The following is the notice of Millais's marriage 
in the Leader of July 7, 1855 : — 


" Deaths. 

" Millais — Gray. June 3, at Bowerswell, John 
Everett Millais, Esq., A. R. A., to Euphemia 
Chalmers, eldest daughter of George Gray, Esq., 
writer, Perth." 

The "fearful ass" in the AthencBum of August 
18, 1855, thus wrote of Millais: — " The Fireside 
Story by the last-named gentleman, is a proof 
that he can be in earnest without being absurd, 
and reproduce nature without administering on 
the occasion a dose of ugliness as a tonic." 


Sunday, 25 Nov., '55. 
Dear Allingham, 

I'm quite ashamed of the long delay in 
answering your letter — especially when I remem- 
ber (as such things generally happen) that on 
receiving it I sat down to answer on the spot, 
and was only compelled by some accident to 
postpone it — of course no further than the same 
evening. I believe that must be a good month 

I have not 'the letter by me in beginning this 
answer, but remember it opened with a question 
about Routledge. At that time I could only 
have given a very bad answer on this head : 


as some time after the publication of your vol. I 
had (hearing nothing from R. & Co.) sent in my 
"small account," but with no result up to the time 
of hearing from you, which was ever so long an 
interval ; I having, on their showing no signs of 
life, let the matter go its way. Some short time 
ago, however, Hughes hearing this, in a fit of 
virtuous and friendly indignation, gave them a 
look up about it, and they have now paid me at 
the same rate as him, with which I am perfectly 
well satisfied. I know no further about Millais, 
and am very sorry you should have been worried 
about it all. 

I have just come back from a ten day's trip to 
Paris, in pursuit of various things and persons. 
The Brownings are there for the winter, on account 
of the cholera at Florence, and had previously been 
some time in London, where I saw them a good 
many times, and indeed may boast of some intimacy 
with the glorious Robert by this time. What a 
magnificent series is Men and Women. Of 
course you have it half by heart ere this. The 
comparative stagnation, even among those I see, 
and complete torpor elsewhere, which greet this 
my Elixir of Life, are awful signs of the times to 
me — "and I must hold my peace!" — for it isn't 
fair to Browning (besides, indeed, being too much 
trouble) to bicker and nicker about it. I fancy we 


shall agree pretty well on favourites, though one's 
mind has no right to be quite made up so soon 
on such a subject. For my own part, I don't 
reckon I've read them at all yet, as I only got 
them the clay before leaving town, and couldn't 
possibly read them then, — the best proof to you 
how hard at work I was for once, — so heard them 
read by William ; since then read them on the 
journey again, and some a third time at intervals ; 
but they'll bear lots of squeezing yet. My prime 
favourites hitherto (without the book by me) are 
Childe Roland, B^ Blougram, Karshish, the 
Contemporary \_How it Strikes a Contemporary^, 
Lippo Lippi, Cleon, and Popularity / about the 
other lyrical ones I can't quite speak yet, and 
their names don't stick in my head : but I'm afraid 
The Heretic s Tragedy rather gave me the gripes 
at first, though I've tried since to think it didn't, 
on finding the Athenceum similarly affected. 

8 Jan., 1856. 

A month and a half actually, dear A., since the 
last sheet, already long behindhand, yet which has 
lain in my drawer ever since, till it is too late now 
to wish you merry Christmas, too late to wish you 
happy New Year, only not too late to feel just 
the same towards you as if I were the best cor- 
respondent in the world, and to know you feel the 


same towards me. I am sure, too, you believe 
that, little as I do to deserve and obtain frequent 
letters from you, your letters are as great a pleasure 
to me as any I get, — greater, I think, than any, 
except certain ones which you'll be glad to hear 
come now dated Nice, their writer having left 
England three months ago, and benefiting already, 
I trust, by the genial climate she is now enjoying, 
which, while that bitter cold weather was ailing us 
here, remained as warm as the best English May. 

Many thanks indeed for your new year's gift, — 
a most delightful one. Old Blake is quite as 
loveable by his oddities as by his genius, and the 
drawings to the Ballads abound with both. The 
two nearly faultless are the Eagle and the Hermit's 
Dog. Ruskin's favourite (who has just been look- 
ing at it) is the Horse ; but I can't myself quite 
get over the intensity of comic decorum in the 
brute's face. He seems absolutely snuffling with 
propriety. The Lion seems singing a comic song 
with a pen behind his ear, but the glimpse of 
distant landscape below is lovely. The only draw- 
ing where the comic element riots almost unre- 
buked is the one of the dog jumping down the 

As regards engraving, these drawings, with the 
Job, present the only good medium between etching 
and formal line that I ever met with. I see that 


in coming to me the book returns home ; having 
set out from No. 6 Bridge St., Blackfriars, just 
50 years ago. Strange to think of it as then, new 
literature and art. Those ballads of Hayley — some 
of the quaintest human bosh in the world — picked 
their way, no doubt, in highly respectable quarters, 
where poor Blake's unadorned hero at Page 1 was 
probably often stared at, and sometimes torn out. 

I broke off at the last sheet in mid- Browning. 
Of course I've been drenching myself with him at 
intervals since, only he gets carried off by friends, 
and I have him not always by me. I wish you'd 
let me hear in a speedy answer (there's cheek for 
you !) all you think about his new work, and it shall 
nerve me to express my ideas in return ; but since 
I have given up poetry as a pursuit of my own, I 
really find my thoughts on the subject generally 
require a starting-point from somebody else to 
bring them into activity ; and as you're the only 
man I know who'd be really in my mood of re- 
ceptiveness in regard to Browning, and as I can't 
get at you, I've been bottled up ever since M. and 
W. came out. By the bye, I don't reckon William 
— the intensity of fellow-feeling on the subject 
making the discussion of it between us rather flat. 
I went the other day to a id. reading-room, — a real 
blessing — which now occupies the place of Burford's 
Panorama, and where all papers and reviews what- 


soever are taken in. There I saw two articles on 
Browning — -one by Masson — really thoroughly 
appreciative, but slow — in the British Quarterly — 
and one by a certain Brimley, of Trin. Col., Cam., 
in Fraser, — the cheekiest of human products. This 
man, less than two years ago, had not read a line 
of Browning, as I know through my brother ; and 
I have no doubt he has just read him up to write 
this article ; which opens, nevertheless, with accusa- 
tions against R. B. of nothing less than personal 
selfishness and vanity, so plumply put as to be 
justifiable by nothing less than personal intimacy 
of many years. When I went to Paris, I took my 
copy of Men and Women (which had been sent me 
the day .before) with me, and got B. to write my 
name in it. Did you get a copy ? We spoke often 
of you, — he with great personal and poetical regard 
— I of course with loathing. I inclose herewith a 
note which reached me before the book, containing 
emendations. Copy them, if you please, and return 
the note. I spent some most delightful time with 
Browning at Paris, both in the evenings and at 
the Louvre, where (and throughout conversation) I 
found his knowledge of early Italian art beyond 
that of any one I ever met, — encyclopedically 
beyond that of Ruskin himself. What a jolly thing 
is Old Pictures at Florence ! It seems all the 
pictures desired by the poet are in his possession 



en -~ 

2 i 

; • - 


in fact. At Paris I met his father, and in London 
an uncle of his and his sister, who, it appears, 
performed the singular female feat of copying 
Sordello for him, to which some of its eccentricities 
may possibly be referred. However, she remem- 
bers it all, and even Squarcialupe, Zin the Horrid, 
and the sad dishevelled ghost. But no doubt you 
know her. The father and uncle— father especially 
— show just that submissive yet highly cheerful 
and capable simplicity of character which often, I 
think, appears in the family of a great man who 
uses at last what the others have kept for him. 
The father is a complete oddity — with a real genius 
for drawing — but caring for nothing in the least 
except Dutch boors, — fancy the father of Browning! 
— and as innocent as a child. In the New Volumes, 
the only thing he seemed to care for much was that 
about the Sermon to the Jews. 

At B.'s house at Paris I met a miraculous French 
critic named Milsand, who actually before ever 
meeting Browning knew his works to the very 
dregs — and had even been years in search of 
Pauline, — how heard of I know not, — and wrote a 
famous article on him in the Revue des Deux 
Mondes, through which B. somehow came to know 
him. I hear he has translated some of the Men 
and Women, which must be curiosities. In London 
I showed Browning Miss Siddal's! drawing from 



Pippa Passes, with which he was delighted beyond 
measure, and wanted excessively to know her. 
However, though afterwards she was in Paris at 
the same time that he and I were, he only met her 
once for a few minutes : she being very unwell then 
and averse to going anywhere ; and Mrs. B. being 
forbidden to go out, and so unable to call. What 
a delightfully unliterary person Mrs. B. is to meet ! 
During two evenings when Tennyson was at their 
house in London, Mrs. Browning left T. with her 
husband and William and me (who were the 
fortunate remnant of the male party) to discuss 
the universe, and gave all her attention to some 
certainly not very exciting ladies in the next room. 
... I made a sketch of Tennyson reading, 
which I gave to Browning, and afterwards dupli- 
cated it for Miss S. . . . He is quite as glorious 
in his way as Browning, and perhaps of the 2 even 
more impressive on the whole personally. . . . 

Have you reviewed Browning anywhere, or shall 
you ? Hannay has my copy for a similar purpose, 
but I see no fruit coming of it. In B.'s note 
enclosed, the portrait referred to is one of himself 
by Page, an American living at Rome, which he 
has confided to my care with some idea of its 
going to the R.A. After much delay I have only 
just got hold of it, and am much disappointed 
in it, so shall advise its non-exhibition, as a por- 


trait of Browning oughtn't to be put out of sight 
or kicked out. I have done one in water-colours 
myself, which hangs now over my mantelpiece, 
and which every one says is very like. Next 
time I have the chance I shall paint him in oil, and 
probably Mrs. B. too, with him. Ruskin, on read- 
ing Men and Women (and with it some of the other 
works which he didn't know before), declared them 
rebelliously to be a mass of conundrums, and com- 
pelled me to sit down before him and lay siege for 
one whole night ; the result of which was that he 
sent me next morning a bulky letter to be forwarded 
to B., in which I trust he told him he was the 
greatest man since Shakespeare. 

Of other friends there is little news I think. 
Hughes is painting Porphyrio and Madeline in 3 
compartments. Hunt is (I believe with better 
grounds than hitherto) expected back almost daily. 
Woolner has made some lovely sketches in clay. 
Patmore has just lost his father, and is on the 
eve of bringing out the Espousals. Ruskin's new 
volume will be in my hands I believe, on Tuesday. 
What are you at ? I have just seen a capital 
sonnet of yours, — a star shot as rubbish into a 
dust-bin labelled the Idler. I've done lots of work 
lately {i.e., for me), but all in water-colours, and 
nearly all for Ruskin. Among the later of my 
drawings finished are Francesca da Rimini in 3 


compartments ; Dante cut by Beatrice at a marriage 
feast ; Lancelot and Guenever parting at tomb of 
Arthur: at finishing of each of which, and of 
various others I have done, I have very much 
wished you were by to show them to. I'm sorry 
to say my modern picture remains untouched since 
last Xmas ; but this has really not been through 
idleness, as I have done more during the past year 
than for a long while previously, and I think I can 
myself perceive an advance in my later work. 
Pray, again, what are you tip to ? 

I've left no space for the French Exhibition, to 
which indeed I devoted only one of the 10 days I 
spent in Paris, — my head not being a teetotum nor 
my mind an old-clothes shop. Delacroix is one of 
the mighty ones of the earth, and Ingres misses 
being so creditably. There is a German, Knaus, 
who is perfection in a way something between 
Hogarth and Wilkie; Millais and Hunt are marvels 
and omens. Water-colour Hunt and Lewis are 
the only things in their department. The rest is 
silence ; or must be so for the present. 

What do you think of Browning being able to 
read The Mystake ? Could you ? 

Yours affectionately, 

D. G. Rossetti. 

Notes on XXVIII. 
Of this trip to Paris Munro wrote to W. B. 


Scott : — " I have been to Paris to see the great 
exhibition with D. G. R. We enjoyed Paris 
immensely; in different ways, of course, for Rossetti 
was every clay with his sweetheart, of whom he 
is more foolishly fond than I ever saw lover." 

Mr. W. M. Rossetti, tracing his brother's early 
favourites among the poets, says : — " At last — it 
may have been 1847 [when he was nineteen years 
old] — everything took a secondary place in com- 
parison with Robert Browning. Paracelsus, Sor- 
dello, Pippa Passes, The Blot in the 'Scutcheon, and 
the short poems in the Bells and Pomegranates 
series were endless delights ; endless were the 
readings, and endless the recitations." 

The letter from Nice was from Miss Siddal, who 
was spending the winter there in the vain hope 
of winning back health. 

The book that " returns home ; having set out 
from No. 6, Bridge Street, Blackfriars, just fifty 
years ago," was Ballads by William Hay ley, founded 
on anecdotes relating to animals, with prints, de- 
signed and engraved by William Blake. Chichester, 
printed by J. Seagrave for Richard Phillips, Bridge 
Street, Blackfriars, London, 1805. On May 16, 
1802, Hayley wrote of Blake: — "He is at this 
moment by my side, representing on copper an 
Adam of his own, surrounded by animals, — a 
frontispiece to the projected ballads." Gibbon 
wrote of Hayley on July 3, 1782 : — " He rises with 
his subject, and, since Pope's death, I am satisfied 
that England has not seen so happy a mixture of 


strong sense and flowing numbers." Porson thus 
ridiculed the mutual flattery of Hayley and Miss 
Seward : — 

Miss Seward loquitur. 
Tuneful poet, Britain's glory, 
Mr. Hayley, that is you. 

Hayley responded 
Ma'am, you carry all before you, 
Trust me, Lichfield Swan, you do. 

Miss Seward. 
Ode, didactic, epic, sonnet, 
Mr. Hayley, you're divine. 

Ma'am, I'll take my oath upon it, 
You yourself are all the Nine. 

It was in 1853 that Rossetti "first definitely 
decided to adhere to painting as his profession, 
to the comparative neglect of poetry." At a still 
earlier date, on August 13, 1852, he wrote to his 
brother, " I have abandoned poetry." Neverthe- 
less, so late as August 12, 1 871, he wrote to Madox 
Brown : — " I wish one could live by writing poetry. 
I think I'd see painting d d if one could." 

I remember seeing, about the year 1856, a 
pen-and-ink drawing by Rossetti, of Browning, 
with a look of angry scorn, tearing out from a 
magazine the pages in which his poems were 
criticised. I have little doubt that it was Brimley's 
article that was thus treated. We see a different 
side of this reviewer's character in the following 


extract from a letter by T. S. Baynes, published 
in The Table-Talk of Shirley: — "Only a day or 
two ago, in looking over some papers, I met with 
the note I received when with you last year from 
poor Brimley, in which he speaks so calmly, yet so 
despondingly, about his health. He died last week. 
For a long time he had worked on at his post in 
the immediate presence of death, waiting calmly 
amidst pain and toil for the moment of release and 

Six years before Rossetti "spent some most 
delightful time with Browning at the Louvre," he 
had visited it with Holman Hunt, as he thus 
describes in the last six lines of a sonnet : — 

" Meanwhile Hunt and myself race at full speed 

Along the Louvre, and yawn from school to school, 
Wishing worn-out those masters known as old. 
And no man asks of Browning ; though indeed 
(As the book travels with me) any fool 

Who would might hear Sordello's story told." 

Squarcialupe is found on page 66, The sad dis- 
hevelled form (not ghost) on page 99, and Zin the 
Horrid on page 104 of Sordello, edition of 1885. 

Hawthorne, who met Browning in the summer 
of 1856, describes him as "a younger man than 
I expected to see, handsome, with brown hair. He 
is very simple and agreeable in manner, gently 
impulsive, talking as if his heart were uppermost." 

The following anecdote Mr. Arthur Hughes had 
from Rossetti, who in his turn had it from Brown- 


ing's father. Once when the poet was kept in- 
doors a few days by illness his father, who was 
living in another house, on going to visit him 
was each day received boisterously and cheer- 
fully with the words : — " I have done another 
act, father." He was writing The Blot on the 
Scutcheon, and he finished it in five days. 

Mr. Hughes described to me Browning's uncle 
as "a good-looking, well-to-do" city gentleman, 
with a gray head." He had met him at a party 
and fell into talk with him. " 'No doubt you admire 
your nephew's poetry very much,' I said. ' I like 
my nephew,' he replied, 'but I do not know that 
I appreciate poetry properly. I cannot say that 
I understand his. What I say to him is this : — 
" Poetry of a difficult character should be printed 
on a large page with a wide margin at side, as 
official documents are printed with a space for 
notes. Why do not you print your poetry in the 
usual way, and then on the side say what it 
means r 

J. Milsand reviewed Browning in the Revue des 
Deux Mondes of August 15, 1851, the second part 
of an article on La Podsie Anglaise depuis Byron ; 
and also in the Revue Contemporaine of September 
15, 1856. In 1864 he published L' Esthdtique 
Anglaise, Etude sur M. John Ruskin. Of Pauline 
for which "he had been years in search," the 
following anecdote is told by Mr. W. M. Ros- 
setti : — "In the British Museum my brother had 
come across an anonymous poem entitled Pattline. 


He admired it much, and copied out every line 
of it." He inferred that it was by Browning. On 
writing to the poet, he learned that his inference 
was right. 

In 1863 Browning dedicated a new edition of 
Sordello " to J. Milsand of Dijon ; " and later on he 
honoured his memory by the following dedication 
of Parleyings zvith Certain People : — 



Obiit iv Sept. mdccclxxxvi 

Absens absentem auditque videtque 

Matthew Arnold, writing on November 9, 1866, 
says : — " I had asked Lake to dine quite alone 
with us ; then a M. Milsand, a Frenchman and a 
remarkable writer, called unexpectedly, and I 
added him to Lake ; then I found Milsand was 
staying with Browning, and I added Browning ; 
I found that Lord Houghton was a friend of Mil- 
sand's, and so I asked him too. Everybody made 
themselves pleasant, and it did extremely well." 

Last year ,£175 was given for a copy of the first 
edition of Pauline, a poem of which the author in 
the preface to the collected edition of his works 
says : — " The first piece in the series I acknow- 
ledge and retain with extreme repugnance, indeed 
purely of necessity." 

On one of the two evenings which Tennyson 
spent at Browning's house Rossetti heard one poet 
read aloud his Maiid, and the other his Fra Liptio 


Lippi. Mr. W. M. Rossetti, describing this evening, 
says : — " My brother made two pen-and-ink sketches 
of Tennyson, and gave one of them to Browning. 
So far as I remember, the Poet Laureate neither 
saw what Dante was doing nor knew of it after- 
wards. His deep, grand voice, with slightly 
chaunting intonation, was a noble vehicle for 
mighty verse. On it rolled, sonorous and emo- 
tional." Rossetti, according to Mr. Hall Caine, 
spoke of the incident in these terms : — " I once 
heard Tennyson read Maud, and whilst the fiery 
passages were delivered with a voice and vehemence 
which he alone of living men can compass, the 
softer passages and the songs made the tears course 
down his cheeks." Patmore, in a letter to Ailing- 
ham, dated September 12, 1855, speaking of Tenny- 
son, who had read to him "a passage here and 
there in Maud," continues : — " His reading magnifies 
the merit of everything ; it is so grand." 

Mr. W. M. Rossetti tells me that the portrait his 
brother drew of Browning, " after he took a fanciful 
prejudice against him he gave away." 

The Espousals is the second part of The Angel 
in the House. "I am sorry," wrote Henry Taylor 
on February 7, 1856, "that Patmore is writing a 
second part. Nothing is more important to a light 
poem of that kind than to be rounded off briefly 
and lie in a ring fence." 

" Ruskin's new volume " was, I think, the third 
volume of Modern Painters. On July 1st of 
this year Rossetti had written : — " Ruskin is very 


hard at work on the third volume of Modern 
Painters, who, I tell him, will be old masters before 
the work is ended." In the summer of 1856, 
Rossetti, as will be seen, was reading the fourth 

Allingham's sonnet is entitled The Three Sisters 
(the three Brontes). The Idler was edited by E. 
Wilberforce. It came to an end with its sixth 

That Rossetti at this time did " nearly all " his 
pictures for Ruskin is explained by the following 
statement by Mr. W. M. Rossetti : — " From an early 
date in their acquaintance Mr. Ruskin undertook to 
buy, if he happened to like it, whatever Rossetti 
produced, at a range of prices such as he would 
have asked from any other purchaser, and up to a 
certain maximum of expenditure on his own part. 
. . . My brother availed himself of Ruskin's easy 
liberality without abusing it. In fact, he was made 
comfortable in his professional position." 

The picture which he describes as Dante cut by 
Beatrice at a marriage Feast bears the title Beatrice 
at a Marriage Feast denies Dante her Salutation. 
His "modern picture" was Found. 

Of Delacroix, whom he praises so highly in this 
letter, he wrote from Paris in 1849: — "Delacroix 
(except in two pictures, which show a kind of savage 
genius) is a perfect beast, though almost worshipped 
here." Mr. Holman Hunt, who was Rossetti's 
companion in this visit to Paris, writes : — " Delacroix 
was to me only a very far removed old master of 
poor capacity." 


Of Ingres Rossetti wrote : — " This fellow is quite 
unaccountable. One picture of his in the Luxem- 
bourg is unsurpassed for exquisite perfection by 
anything I have ever seen, and he has others there 
for which I would not give two sous." For his 
Ruggiero and Angelica he composed two sonnets. 

The Mystake was Rossetti's perversion of The 
Mystic, by P. J. Bailey, published this year. That 
author's Fesfois he had in earlier years "read over 
and over again." 


Thursday \Endorsed March 7, 1856]. 

Dear Allingham, 

I've been putting off writing to you in 
hopes of doing so at some length, but have been so 
busy that at length in despair I snatch a half hour 
before model comes this morning to do my bare 
duty to you, still deferring my pleasure. 

Many thanks for Aubrey de Vere, whom I have 
hardly looked into yet, but will prove, I suspect, 
more in my line than yours — not that I either have 
quite given over backbone as unaccessary to human 
structure. But I have rather a weakness to the 
man, though this vol., as far as I see, doesn't seem 
up to the best of the Proserpine one. 

I have had 3 parcels here for you — two Art 


Union ones (!), which a considerate hand relieved 
me of (by your order as I understood) from the 
Office yesterday. I still have a largish parcel from 
some one whose name the bearer told me (begin- 
ning with S, I think). What shall I do with it ? 
Or is it possible these are forerunners of your 
coming ? May it be so. Now something else. 
Dalziel (very good naturedly, considering) called 
here the other day to enlist me for an illustrated 
selection of Poets which he has the getting up of, 
it being edited by Revd. Wilmott. That venerable 
parson had not, it seems, included Browning, for 
whose introduction I made an immediate stand, and 
said in that case I would illustrate him. I think it 
will probably be done, and I shall propose (I fancy 
as yet) Count Gismond, — " Say, hast thou lied ? " 
— which I designed some years ago. But I should 
also like to do one from you, if anything illustratable 
of yours is included and you are not pre-engaged. 
Something of yours, I gathered from D., was to be 
in. Would you tell me what? i.e., if you know. I 
told him I should not be able to do them for several 
months, as the Tennyson ones still hang on my 
hands ; but he seemed to say that would do. I am 
to write to him about subject from Browning, so 
would you let me also hear of yours at once, if 
you can ? 

That notice in The Oxford and Cambridge Mag. was 


the most gratifying thing by far that ever happened 
to me — being unmistakeably [sic] genuine. I thought 
it must, be by your old acquaintance Fryer, of 
Cambridge, he having called on me once about 
those same things. But it turns out to be by a 
certain youthful Jones, who was in London the 
other day, and whom (being known to some of the 
Working Men's Coll. council) I have now met. 
One of the nicest young fellows in — Dreamland. 
For there most of the writers in that miraculous 
piece of literature seem to be. Surely this cometh 
in some wise of the Germ, with which it might bind 
up. But how much more the right thing — in kind 
— than the Idler I I see it monthly. The new 
No. has a story called A Dream, which really is 
remarkable, 1 I think, in colour. 

This brings me to my water-colours. I'm doing 
a large one I'd like you to see — Dante's vision of 
Beatrice dead, Vita Nuova — one of my very best. 
I've done, too, lately, a monk illuminating and 
other beginnings. I've got (I think) a commis- 
sion to paint a reredos (altar-piece) for Llandaff 
Cathedral — a big thing, which I shall go into 
with a howl of delight after all my small work. 
I fancy it will pay wellish, too. 

Your affectionate 

D. G. Rossetti. 

1 He had at first written " remarkable in some respects." 







(By D. G. Rossetti.J 

\To face page 174. 


Notes on XXIX. 

Four years later Rossetti described Aubrey deVere 
as " surely one of the wateriest of the well-meaning." 
Sir Henry Taylor, writing to the poet on April 9, 
1855, said : — " I have considered your volume a great 
deal, and written to you not a little upon it with 
the mind's pen, curious to know, if you be not a 
great poet, wherein you fail. Not in intellect, cer- 
tainly, for therein you range with Coleridge and 
Wordsworth, and above Tennyson ; not in art or 
the rhythmic sense, for in that you are equal to 
Wordsworth ; not in fancy, of which you have more 
than any of them. Is it, then, in human and 
imaginative passion ? That, I think, is the only 
question." In 1843 de Vere had published The 
Search after Proserpine, Recollections of Greece, and 
other Poems. 

Rossetti was not enlisted for this " illustrated 
selection of poets," which, towards the end of 
the year, was published under the title of The 
Poets of the Nineteenth Cenhiry, selected and 
edited by R. A. Willmott. 

To The Oxford and Cambridge Magazine 
Rossetti contributed The Burden of Nineveh, 
The Staff and the Scrip, and The Blessed 
Damozel, slightly altered from the form it bore 
in The Germ. The mention of this magazine 
brings back to my memory a little front parlour 
in a small lodging - house in Pembroke Street, 
Oxford, in which, in the Michaelmas term of 


1855, I heard a knot of eager young men talk 
of the forthcoming first number. They were all 
my seniors in standing, some of them by two or 
three years. I was only in my second term. The 
two leaders were Burne-Jones and William Morris. 
Next to them was Richard Watson Dixon (now a 
canon of the Church of England), whom Rossetti 
"described, towards 1880, as 'an admirable but 
totally unknown living poet. His finest passages," 
he added, "are as fine as any living man can 
write."" The most generally beloved in the little 
set was Charles Joseph Faulkner, scholar of Pem- 
broke College, who, after winning the highest 
honours in examinations, became Fellow and 
Tutor of University College. It was a distin- 
guished Common Room which he joined, number- 
ing as it did among its members John Conington, 
Goldwin Smith, A. P. Stanley, and Canon Bright. 
" Most whist-loving of the sad socialist race, and 
affectionately remembered as ' Citizen Faulkner ' " — 
so he is described in the recent History of Pem- 
broke College. Till an insidious malady had begun 
to work its ruin on his fine mind he was the 
pleasantest of companions as he was always the 
truest of friends. He inherited a love of art from 
his father, who, he told me, in early manhood had 
been a designer in metal-work, and had once gained 
a prize offered by some Society of Arts. Being 
a poor artisan, he walked all the way from Bir- 
mingham to London to receive it, and back again. 
In the few days which he stayed in the town to 


see the sights he lived chiefly on dry bread and 
raisins. What the son could have done as an artist 
he showed by engraving the frontispiece in Miss 
Rossetti's Goblin Market. " The principal draw- 
ing," writes Mr. W. M. Rossetti, " was cut on 
the wood by Mr. Morris with uncommon spirit — 
I believe his first attempt in that line." It was 
by Charles Faulkner, and not by William Morris, 
that this drawing was cut. It was his first, and, I 
believe, his last attempt. He gave an early im- 
pression of it to my little daughter, his god-child. 
He was the third member in the art firm of Morris, 
Marshall, Faulkner & Co. To my long friend- 
ship with this most upright and truthful of men 
I owe more than I can tell. All of these men 
but Morris had been born, or at all events had 
been educated, in Birmingham. Another of the 
set, the late Edwin Hatch, afterwards became 
distinguished as a theological scholar. Between 
him and the others I never discovered any bond 
of sympathy but this common Birmingham origin. 
One evening, when I was absent, he described me 
as "the personification of all the intellectual vices 
of the age." I had been brought up a Utilitarian. 
I was, I fear, less pained by the vices which were 
laid to my charge than flattered by " intellectual " 
which qualified them. 

I was introduced to this little fraternity by the 
future editor of the magazine, William Fulford, 
a poet of no mean power. It was, in fact, "a nest 
of singing birds," who, night after night, were 



found together in. the close neighbourhood of Dr. 
Johnson's old college, often in the college itself. 
It was a new world into which I was brought. I 
knew nothing of art, and nothing of Tennyson, 
Browning, and Ruskin. The subjects which I had 
always heard discussed were never discussed here, 
while matters on which I had never heard any one 
speak formed here the staple of the talk. I recall 
how, one evening, the nineteenth century was de- 
nounced for its utter want of poetry. This was 
more than I could bear, for the nineteenth century 
was almost an object of adoration in my father's 
house. I ventured to assert that it could boast, at 
all events, of one piece of poetry — the steam- 
engine. The roar of laughter which burst forth 
nearly overwhelmed me. The author of The 
Earthly Paradise almost overturned, his chair as 
he flung himself backwards, overpowered with 
mirth. I was too much abashed to explain that 
I was recalling the sight I had once had of an 
engine rushing through the darkness along a high 
embankment, drawing after it a cloud of flame 
and fiery steam. 

In the first number of the magazine, the editor, 
in an article on Tennyson, praised the music to 
which Sweet and Low had been set. I recall the 
pleasure with which he read to us a letter from the 
poet, asking for the name of the publisher of the 
music, as no setting that he knew of pleased either 
himself or his wife. 

What the "youthful Jones" thought of Rossetti 


we learn from Canon Dixon, -who wrote, "The 
great painter who first took me to him said, ' We 
shall see the greatest man in Europe.' " 

The water-colour of Dante's vision, says Mr. 
W. M. Rossetti, " is the same subject as the large 
oil-picture now in the Walker Gallery at Liverpool, 
but not at all the same composition." " The Monk 
Illuminating is the water-colour named Fra Pace." 

For the triptych for Llandaff Cathedral Rossetti 
was to receive ^400. It was not finished till 1864. 


Friday [April, 1856]. 
Dear Allingham, 

Many thanks for^your " sunny memory " 
of me. The photograph interests me as in some 
degree embodying your whereabouts. 

I have just been turning over the 3 parcels of 
books left for you with me, and a dismaller collec- 
tion I never saw. Is it possible you read all that ? 
The only one to my taste is a nice clean Mrs. 
Boddington. I have met lately with a lady — one 
Mrs. Burr — who always brings her to my mind — 
having the same tendency to poetic travelling, and 
being much what I fancy her in age and person — 
about 32, refined and very nearly beautiful, ener- 


getic withal to an extraordinary degree in Ruskin's 
style, but quite mild and feminine — 10 hours at the 
top of a ladder to copy a Giotto ceiling being 
nothing to her. She has been travelling all over 
Italy with Layard, and they together have given 
one one's first real chance of forming a congruous 
idea of early art without going there — he having 
traced all he could get at by single figures and 
groups — and she having made coloured drawings 
of the whole compositions, and the chapels, etc., 
where they are painted on the walls. They have 
hundreds — whole reams of these things — of course 
more interesting than one can say. Benozzo 
Gozzoli was a god. ft is fearful to hear them 
describe the havoc going on among the originals 
of their tracings, etc. In one instance, specially 
admiring a glorious fresco by Pietro della Fran- 
cesca — I was told that while the tracing was being 
made, some demons came with an order to knock 
it out of the wall to make a window — which was 
done ! I believe some means will be taken to 
publish or show publicly all these things. A most 
glorious treat which I had yesterday is the sight 
of the Giotto tracings made for the Arundel 
Society, and now in the Crystal Palace. I hope 
you'll be in time for them. The woodcuts pub- 
lished give no idea. 

I've just finished a largish drawing for one Miss 


Heaton, of Leeds, of Dante's dream of Beatrice 
lying dead. It has taken me nearly 2 months, 
and is the best I have done. I fear it must go 
before you come, or I should like of all things to 
show it you. 

Being short of news (and time) I enclose 2 or 
3 notes of Browning's as a peace - offering. You 
ought to see one passage. His portrait by Page 
is accepted at R.A., but I dare say they'll gibbet 
it in some way, and it isn't good. 

I agree partly about Ruskin as far as I've read 
the 4th vol., but there are glorious things, of course; 
Calais Church at beginning is one. 

Really, the omissions in Browning's passage are 
awful, and the union with Longfellow worse. How 
I loathe Wishi-washi, — of course without reading it. 
I have not been so happy in loathing anything for a 
long while — except, I think, Leaves of Grass, by 
that Orson of yours. I should like just to have the 
writing of a valentine to him in one of the reviews. 

Perhaps you've heard of Academy pictures — so I 
give you but a summary. Millais sends 5 : Peace 
concluded, a stupid affair to suit the day — but very 
big, and fetching him ^"900 ! without copyright, for 
which he expects £i,coo more; Children burning 
Autumn leaves, very lovely indeed ; Blind Girl and 
rainbow, one of the most touching and perfect 
things I know ; Church besieged in Cromwell's time, 


with child lying wounded on knight's tomb, haven't 
seen ; Boy looking at Leech's picture book. Hunt 
sends only Scapegoat — a grand thing, but not for 
the public — and a few lovely landscape drawings. 
His big picture of Christ and the Doctors in the 
Temple is about the greatest thing, perhaps, he has 
done, but only half done yet. Hughes' Eve of St. 
Agnes will make his fortune, I feel sure. 

Bessie P.'s [Parkes's] Gabriel is Shelley, I hear. 

Your loving D. G. R. 

Notes on XXX. 

"Sunny memory" Rossetti perhaps borrowed 
from Mrs. Stowe's Sunny Memories of Foreign 
Lands, which had been brought out a year earlier. 

Mary Boddington published a volume of poems 
in 1839. "I fancy," writes Mr. W. M. Rossetti, 
" that her name has now passed out of all remem- 
brance. It may be as far back as 1847 that my 
brother (and myself) grew very familiar with a few 
specimens of poetry by her, and had a great liking 
for them. I could still repeat most of one poem 
about a lady who had drowned herself, beginning — 

' They laid my lady in her grave, 
My lady with the deep blue eye.' " 

This poem is given in Allingham's Nightingale 
Valley, page 184. 
In 1868 Sir H. A. Layard published for the 







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Arundel Society a monograph on The Brancacci 
Chapel, at Florence, in which he described the 
mosaics. This was his first publication on Italian 
art. "At Millais' house one night," writes Mr. 
Holman Hunt, " we found a book of engravings of 
the frescoes in the Campo Santo at Pisa. It was 
probably the finding of this book at this special time 
which caused the establishment of the Pratraphaelite 
Brotherhood." "These engravings," says Mr. W. 
M. Rossetti, "give some idea of the motives, feel- 
ing, and treatment of the paintings of Gozzoli." 

" The omissions in Browning's passage " were 
omissions in a quotation in Modem Painters, vol. 
iv. p. t>77> from The Bishop orders his Tomb at 
Saint Praxed's Church. " The union with Long- 
fellow " is in the following passage on the same 
page : — " Thus Longfellow in The Golden Legend 
has entered more closely into the temper of the 
monk, for good and for evil, than ever yet theo- 
logical writer or historian, though they may have 
given their life's labour to the analysis ; and again, 
Robert Browning is unerring in every sentence he 
writes of the Middle Ages," &c. 

Matthew Arnold, this same spring, described 
Ruskin's new volume as "full. of excellent aperpus, 
as usual, but the man and character too febrile, 
irritable, and weak to allow him to possess the ordo 
concatenatioque veri." 

Leaves of Grass must be Whitman's , poems ; 
though why Rossetti should describe the author 
as "that Orson of yours" I cannot understand. 


The following extracts from two of Allingham's 
letters to Mr. W. M. Rossetti show that Allingham 
had not at this time read the book : — 

March 15, 1857. "Leaves of Grass I have 
bought partly from what you say (75. 6d., mind!), 
but not read. First glimpse shows something of a 
got-zip air. Is ' Whitman '' real ? Do you know 
Thoreau's Concord and Life in the Woods ? They 
are worth having." 

April 10, 1857. " I've read Leaves of Grass, and 
found it rather pleasant, but little new or original ; 
the portrait the best thing. Of course, to call it 
poetry, in any sense, would be mere abuse of 
language. In poetry there is a special freedom, 
which, however, is not lawlessness and incoherence." 

On May 19 of the same year he returns to the 
subject : — 

" I have been very fiat and heavy lately, and out 
of humour with poetry-writing. The fact is I am 
dismal for want of some society. I'm weary of 
wandering about the fields— sermons in stones, and 
no good in anything. ' Rusty ' is derived from 
' rus.' I must get out of this desolate Ballyshannon 
village — and long for it again, perhaps, in another 
mood. But in any mood, case, or tense, I couldn't 
allow Leaves of Grass to be poetry. I wish we had 
some accepted word like ' poeticality.' The Leaves 
are suggestive, like the advertisement columns of a 
newspaper, or a stroll along Fleet Street and 
Thames Street, but poetry without form is — what 
shall I say ? Proportion seems to me the most 


inalienable quality of a poem. From the chaos of 
incident and reflection arise the rounded worlds of 
poetry, and go singing on their way." 

Rossetti, writing in 1878 about his brother's Lives 
of Famous Poets, says of Whitman : — " By the bye, 
I am sorry to see that name winding up a summary 
of great poets ; he is really out of court in com- 
parison with any one who writes what is not subli- 
mated Tupper ; though you know that I am not 
without appreciation of his fine qualities." The two 
brothers differed greatly in their estimate of Whit- 
man. Mr. W. M. Rossetti wrote to Mrs. Gilchrist 
in 1869: — "That glorious man Whitman will one 
day be known as one of the greatest sons of Earth, 
a few steps below Shakespeare on the throne of 

About three of Millais' five Academy pictures 
Madox Brown thus wrote : — " I saw Millais' picture 
of the year, Autumn Leaves — the finest in painting 
and colour he has yet clone, but the subject some- 
what without purpose and looking like portraits. 
His large picture is, I believe, sold to Miller for a 
thousand guineas. I don't like it much ; the subject 
is stupidish and the colour bad, but some of the 
expressions beautiful and lovely parts. The Blind 
Girl is altogether the finest subject — a religious 
picture and a glorious one. It is a pity he has 
scamped the execution." 

Mr. Holman Hunt had returned to England in 
February of this year. " For four years after my 
return," he writes, " I had to keep The Finding of 


the Saviour often with its face to the wall, while I 
was working at pot-boilers to get the means to 
advance it at all ; and frequently when I obtained a 
little money I could only work a week at the picture 
before the demand for rent, taxes, or some debt 
made itself heard. Had we found a public showing 
only a reasonable amount of interest and indepen- 
dence of taste, and of faith that our countrymen 
could and should win glory for the nation, I know 
that my two companions [Rossetti and Millais] 
would have done greater things than can easily be 
imagined, and I can assert that what I now show of 
my life's work would be but a tithe of what there 
would be ; but even yet, I thank God, the day 
leaves me opportunity to work with my might." 

Miss Parkes had published a poem under the 
title of Gabriel. 


Monday \_M ay, 1856]. 
Dear Allingham, 

Would you kindly, in coming to town, 
bring Miss S.'s wood-block of the old ballad. She 
wants to borrow it of you, as she thinks of painting 
the subject at once, and has no other design of it. 

I only write this word or two, as I am so soon to 
enjoy the sight of you. The R.A. Ex. is full of 


P.R. work this year. Hughes' Eve of St. Agnes 
is a real success. The finest thing of all in the 
place, to my feeling, is a picture by one Windus (of 
Liverpool), from the old ballad of Burd Helen 
another version of Childe Waters. It belongs, I 
hear, to your friend Miller. 

Your D. G. Rossetti. 

Notes on XXXI. 

Madox Brown recorded in May, 1856: — "Off 
solus to the Royal Academy. Hunt and Millais 
unrivalled except by Hook, who, for colour and in- 
describable charm is pre-eminent, even to hugging 
him in one's arms. A perfect poem is each of his 
little pictures. Millais' looks ten times better than 
in his room, owing to contrast with surrounding 
badness. Hunt's Scapegoat requires to be seen to 
be believed in. Only then can it be understood 
how, by the might of genius, out of an old goat, 
and some saline incrustations, can be made one of 
the most tragic and impressive works in the annals 
of art." 

Gambart, the picture-dealer, "who had given Mr. 
Hunt a commission, when he went to the Holy 
Land, for a large picture similar to his Light of the 
World, complained to Linnell : — ' I wanted a nice 
religious bicture, and he bainted me a great goat.' " 
After Mr. Hunt had painted these two pictures he 
received one vote when he stood for election to the 
Royal Academy. 


Windus was a Liverpool painter. Madox Brown, 
writing about his picture on May 14 of this year 
said : — " Rossetti forced Ruskin to go with him to 
see it instanter, because he had not noticed it in his 
pamphlet, and extorted the promise of a postscript 
on its behalf." In the postscript to the third edition 
of Notes on Pictures in the Royal Academy, 1856, 
Ruskin says : — " Generally speaking, the arrange- 
ment of the pictures in the Academy this year is 
better than usual : but the errors which are usually 
notable in various parts of the room seem to have 
been all concentrated in the one crying error of 
putting No. 122 nearly out of sight. ... I passed 
this Burd Helen by. . . . Further examination of 
it leads me to class it as the second picture of the 
year ; its aim being higher, and its reserved strength 
greater than those of any other work except the 
Autumn Leaves." 


Mrs. Green's, 17, Orange Grove, Bath. 

^Postmark, December 18, 1856.] 
My dear Allingham, 

Very glad was I of your undeserved letter. 
How long have I meant to write to you ! It was 
sent on to me here, where I have been a week or 
two, and may still be a week. 


The piece of news freshest in my mind is Aurora 
Leigh, — an astounding work, surely. You said no- 
thing of it. I know that St. Francis and Poverty 
do not wed in these days of St. James' Church, with 
rows of portrait figures on either side, and the 
corners neatly finished with angels. I know that 
if a blind man were to enter the room this evening 
and talk to me for some hours, I should, with the 
best intentions, be in danger of twigging his blind- 
ness before the right moment came, if such there 
were, for the chord in the orchestra and the proper 
theatrical start ; yet with all my knowledge I have 
felt something like a bug ever since reading Aurora 
Leigh. Oh, the wonder of it ! and oh, the bore of 
writing about it. 

The Brownings are long gone back now, and 
with them one of my delights, — an evening resort 
where I never felt unhappy. How large a part 
of the real world, I wonder, are those two small 
people ? — taking meanwhile so little room in any 
railway carriage, and hardly needing a double bed 
at the inn. 

Little Read has been in London lately, and I 
saw him once or twice — just the same as ever — 
with a new wife, I hear, but he did not say so. 
They are going on to Rome. 

What of London friends ? Woolner is still doing 
his bust of Tennyson, and his medallion, you know, 


is to face the title of the new edition. His statue 
of Bacon, for the Oxford Museum, turned out a very 
first-rate thing, and is likely, I hope, to do him great 
good. There was an article on it in the Daily 
Nevus, written by one Revd. Elliott, and an allu- 
sion, I hear, in the Athenceum. By the bye, your 
mowing song was one of your best. Hunt is 
going on with his great picture, and is painting 
at present in the Alhambra Court at the Crystal 
Palace, where he finds some architectural matters 
for his background. Hughes has 3 or 4 pictures 
in hand; but of these you are likely to have 
heard. Munro is still at work for Woodward. 
Brown has lately got the prize of £$0 at Liver- 
pool for his Christ washing Peter s Feet, which is 
proving of use to him. He has a 400 guinea 
commission from Mr. Plint, of Leeds, for a large 
modern picture which he began some time ago, 
called Work, and illustrating all kinds of Carly- 
lianisms. It will be a most noble affair, and will 
at last, I should hope, settle the question of his 
fame, which is making some steps at last. Did 
you see his woodcut in The Poets of the igth 
Century ? — very fine still, though rather mauled. 
They have treated you snobbily enough there. I 
had engaged to do Browning ; but what could 
have been done with Evelyn Hope or Two in the 
Campagna ? Count Gismond now ! — but they 

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dalziel's "cannibal jig. 

[To face page 191. 


wouldn't. How truly glorious are both of Millais' 
drawings ! Among his very finest doings, I think, 
and preferable to any I have yet seen by him in 
the Tennyson. 

Hunt's Oriana and Lady of Shalott are my 
favorites, both masterpieces. I have done, as 
yet, four, — Mariana in South, Sir Galahad, and 
two to the Palace of Art. I hope to do a 
second to Sir Galahad, but am very uncertain as 
to any more. — But these engravers ! What 
ministers of wrath ! Your drawing comes to them, 
like Agag, delicately, and is hewn in pieces before 
the Lord Harry. I took more pains with one block 
lately than I had with anything for a long while. 
It came back to me on paper, the other day, with 
Dalziel performing his cannibal jig in the corner, and 
I have really felt like an invalid ever since. As yet, 
I fare best with W. J. Linton. He keeps stomache 
aches for you, but Dalziel deals in fevers and agues. 

By the bye, what do you think of Alex. Smith's 
Tennysonian poem in the National Mag. ? I 
think it an advance — indeed, very fine in parts. 
Woolner met him and Dobell in Edinburgh lately — 
liked Smith much, who inquired a great deal about 
you, on whose head he heaps coals of appreciation. 
Read told me that the Angel in the House has had 
a wild success in America. 

How about Blackwood, where you say your poem 


is probably to come out ? I knew not that you had 
diggings in that direction. Stokes and Ormsby I 
see sometimes, and dine with them at the, "Cheshire 
Cheese " at intervals — good fellows both — I will 
not forget your remembrances. 

You will see no more of the poor Oxford and 
Cambridge. It was " too like the Spirit of Germ, 
Down, down ! " and has vanished into the witches' 
cauldron. Morris and Jones have now been some 
time settled in London, and are both, I find, 
wonders after their kind. Jones is doing designs 
which quite put one to shame, so full are they of 
everything — Aurora Leighs of art. He will take 
the lead in no time. Morris, besides writing those 
capital tales, writes poems which are really better 
than the tales, though one or two short ones in the 
Mag. were not of his best. By the bye, though, 
The Chapel in Lyoness was glorious, — did you not 
think so? In his last tale — Golden Wings — the 
printer, after no doubt considering himself per- 
sonally insulted all along by the nature of those 
compositions, wound up matters with an avenging 
blow, and inserted some comic touches, such as 
prefixing old to woman or lady in several in- 
stances, and other commissions and omissions. 
Morris's facility at poetising puts one in a rage. 
He has been writing at all for little more than a 
year, I believe, and has already poetry enough 


for a big book. You know he is a millionaire, and 
buys pictures. He bought Hughes's April Love, 
and lately several water-colours of mine, and a 
landscape by Brown, — indeed, seems as if he would 
never stop, as I have 3 or 4 more commissions 
from him. To one of my water-colours, called 
The Blue Closet, he has written a stunning poem. 
You would think him one of the finest little fellows 
alive — with a touch of the incoherent, but a real 
man. He and Jones have taken those rooms in 
Red Lion Square which poor Deverell and I 
used to have, and where the only sign of life, 
when I found them the other day, on going to 
enquire, all dusty and unused, was an address 
written up by us on the wall of a bedroom, — so 
pale and watery had been all subsequent inmates, 
not a trace/ of whom remained. Morris is rather 
doing the magnificent there, and is having some 
intensely mediaeval furniture made — tables and 
chairs like incubi and succubi. He and I have 
painted the back of a chair with figures and 
inscriptions in gules and vert and azure, and we 
are all three going to cover a cabinet with pictures. 

Morris means to be an architect, and to that end 
has set about becoming si painter, at which he is 
making progress. In all illumination and work 
of that kind he is quite unrivalled by anything 
modern that I know — Ruskin says, better than 



anything ancient. By the bye, it was Ruskin made 
me alter that line in The Blessed D. I had never 
meant to show him any of my versifyings, but he 
wrote to me one day asking if I knew the author 
of Nineveh, and could introduce him — being really 
ignorant, as I found — so after that the flesh was 
weak. Indeed, I do not know that it will not end 
in a volume of mine, one of these days. But first 
I want to bring out those translations, which I 
have not found time yet to get together for Mac- 
millan, so busy have I been. Do you not think 
Vernon Lushington's . Carlyle very good in 0. and 
C. Mag. ? His things and his brother's, Morris's, 
and the one or two by Jones (who never wrote 
before or since) are the staple of that magazine. 
The rest — had better have been — silence. Another 
matter which shall be silence — mainly — on my part 
is your picture at Tom Taylor's — merciful silence, 
O ! W. A. ! were it better, wouldn't I tell its faults ! 
A lady, to whose doings you once inferred a 
comparison of the above, has been, you will be 
sorry to hear, most terribly ill a month or two ago, 
but is now somewhat better again. She has begun 
an oil picture from that wood-block subject, though 
a good deal altered, but it seems as if her health 
could set all her efforts at naught. There were 
some thoughts of her going this winter to Algiers 
(whither Barbara Smith and her sick sister are 


gone) but Miss Siddal seems to have no fancy for 
the place. Medical men are recommending it this 
winter, but earthquakes seem rather a shy feature 
of the entertainments. 

Have you heard of the Howitts? I have seen 
them, though not very lately, and fear that Miss H. 
is anything but well. Spiritualism has begun to 
be in the ascendant at the Hermitage, and this 
to a degree which you could not conceive possible 
without witnessing it. Do not say anything to 
anybody, though. I elicited from W. Howitt, 
before his family, his opinion of it with some 
trouble, and found it to be a modified form of my 
own, which of course I give without reserve — but 
the ladies of the house seem to take but one view 
of the subject, and, astounding as it may appear, 
Mrs. Browning has given in her adherence. I 
hope Aurora Leigh is not to be followed by " that 
style only." Browning, of course, pockets his 
hands and shakes his mane over the question, with 
occasional foamings at the mouth, and he and I 
laid siege to the subject one night, but to no 

Here we are in the 3rd sheet and 3rd~hour, a.m.. 
Goodbye for the present. Do let us keep it up 

Yours ever affectionately, 

D. G. Rossetti. 


P.S. — Do you know that poor Boyce has been 
at Death's door out in the Pyrenees ? I hope he 
is better now, and believe he is likely to be soon 

Notes on XXXII. 

Rossetti was at Bath on a visit to Miss Siddal, 
who was there for the sake of her health. Ten 
weeks earlier Madox Brown recorded : — " Painted 
at William Rossetti from 8 at night till 12. Gabriel 
came in, and, William wishing to go early, Gabriel 
proposed that he should wait five minutes, and they 
would go together ; William being got to sleep on 
the sofa, commenced telling me he intended to get 
married at once to Guggum, and then off to 
Algeria ! and so poor William's five minutes lasted 
till half past 3 a.m." On March 17, 1857, Brown 
recorded : — " All day with Gabriel, who is so 
unhappy about Miss Siddal that I could not leave 

"Aurora Leigh" wrote Mr. W. M. Rossetti to 
W. B. Scott, " was sent to Gabriel, and also to 
Woolner, by Mrs. Browning herself, and both are 
unboundedly enthusiastic about it." Mr. Rossetti 
tells me that his brother, "towards 1845-47, was a 
semi-idolater of Mrs. Browning ; but in more mature 
years he saw very clearly the defects (along with 
the beauties) of her tendencies and style." 

His friendship with Mr. Browning came to an end 
through a wild suspicion that in some lines in Fifine 




at the Fair he was attacked. "On one or two 
occasions," writes Mr. W. M. Rossetti, "when the 
great poet, the object of my brother's early and 
unbounded homage, kindly inquired of me concern- 
ing him, and expressed a wish to look him up, I was 
compelled to fence with the suggestion, lest worse 
should ensue." 

On April n, 1856, Madox Brown wrote: — 
" Woolner's bust of Tennyson is fine, but hard and 
disagreeable. Somehow there is a hitch in 
Woolner as a sculptor. The capabilities for execu- 
tion do not go with his intellect." 

Hawthorne recorded on July 30, 1857 : — "Going 
into the saloon of the old masters [at the Man- 
chester Exhibition] we saw Tennyson there, in 
company with Mr. Woolaer, whose bust of him is 
now in the Exhibition. Gazing at him with all my 
eyes I liked him well, and rejoiced more in him 
than in all the other wonders of the Exhibition. I 
would most gladly have seen more of this one poet 
of our day, but forebore to follow him ; for I must 
own that it seemed mean to be dogging him through 
the saloons, or even to look at him, since it was to 
be done stealthily,, if at all.'' What a fine subject is 
there here for a painter — the old masters on the 
wall looking down on the poet, with his sculptor 
by his side, and the shy dreamer of beautiful dreams 
from the other side of the wide sea looking at him 
by stealth ! 

Rossetti wrote to his brother on August 2, 
1856 : — " I have been twice to see Ristori, with a 


Rev. William Elliott, a friend of Patmore and 
Woolner, who is a tremendous Browningian." 

The Mowers is given on page 58 of Allingham's 
Flower Pieces. The following stanza is perhaps the 
prettiest in the poem : — 

" White falls the brook from steep to steep 
Among the rocks and heather — 
A scythe-sweep and a scythe-sweep, 
We mow the dale together." 

Madox Brown's picture of Christ washing Peter s 
Feet, now in the National Gallery, contains portraits 
of four of the P. R. B. — Holman Hunt, D. G. 
Rossetti and his brother, and F. G. Stephens. In 
the Royal Academy it had been hung near the 
ceiling. "When Grant, the future President, came 
to offer his congratulations, Brown, whose eye had 
only just fallen on it, turned his back in speechless 
indignation, and walked put of the building." Of 
Work, which is in the Manchester Public Gallery, 
he made the first studies in June, 1852 ; it was 
finished in August, 1863. It was in November, 
1856, that Mr. Plint, giving him the commission for 
it, wrote : — " I hope we may both, in God's mercy, 
be spared to see it happily finished." Only half the 
prayer was granted. The liberal patron of art died 
nearly two years before the last touch was given. 
The long delay was mainly due to the need the 
painter was under, to borrow Johnson's words, "of 
making provision for the day that was passing over 
him." That his fame was slow in "making steps" 


was owing in some measure, writes Mr. W. M. 
Rossetti, to "the absolute silence which Mr. 
Ruskin in all his published writings preserved 
as to his works." Rossetti was the warm friend 
of both men. "Brown soon got to hate the very 
name of Ruskin. So Rossetti had, in some degree, 
to steer a middle course between his warm feelings 
for Brown on one side, and for Ruskin on the 

Allingham had only a single poem in The Poets 
of the Nineteenth Century — An Autumnal Sonnet. 
Rossetti contributed no illustration. 

Dalziel's "cannibal jig" was his signature in very 
unequal letters at the bottom of the engraving, of 
which Rossetti gives Allingham an imitation. 

In a letter to W. B. Scott, two months later, 
Rossetti again brought in Agag : " After a fort- 
night's work, my block goes to the engraver, like 
Agag, delicately, and is hewn to pieces before the 
— Lord Harry." 

Alexander Smith's poem in the National 
Magazine for December, 1856, was entitled The 
Night before the Wedding. The " coals of appre- 
ciation " heaped by Smith are explained by the 
following passage in Allingham's letter to Mr. 
W. M. Rossetti, dated March 15, 1857: "Don't 
waste sympathy on Alexander Smith. I hear he is 
coming out with Macmillan shortly ; but if he ever 
produces a good book I undertake to eat it, literally, 
as St. John did, miraculously, I suppose, that one 
in the Revelation. Smith, Dobell, Festus, and all 


that sort of thing is a mere passing hubbub." 
Matthew Arnold, in one of his letters, says of 
Smith : ''It can do me no good to be irritated with 
that young man, who has certainly an extraordinary 
faculty, although I think he is a phenomenon of a 
very dubious character : but il fait son metier — 
faisons le notre." Matthew Arnold is quoting the 
words of the usurer in the eighth chapter of Le 
Diable Boiteux, who, after listening to an eloquent 
sermon against usury, says to a young spendthrift : 
" C'est un savant homme ; il a fort bien fait son 
metier, allons-nous-en faire le notre." 

Stokes is Mr. Whitley Stokes, CLE., LL.D. 
Rossetti wrote to Miss Rossetti in January, 1861 : — 
" Last night I read some of your poems to Stokes 
— a very good judge and conversant with pub- 
lishers." "Mr. Ormesby," writes Mr. W. M. 
Rossetti, "a bright writer on the press, died some 
years ago." 

Rossetti at one time used to dine frequently at 
that famous old Fleet Street tavern, the " Cheshire 
Cheese." He mentions it twice in his letters to 
Alexander Gilchrist. 

Golden Wings was published in the December 
number of the Oxford and Cambridge Magazine. 
The printer's "comic touches" are found in the 
following passages : — " Old knights who fought in 
that battle, and who told me it was all about an 
old lady," &c. " I put my shield before me and 
drew my sword, and the old women drew together 
aside and whispered fearfully." 


Morris's first book, The Defence of Guenevere 
and Other Poems, was dedicated to Rossetti. Of 
"his facility at poetizing" I can give the following 
instance : Charles Faulkner, coming to my house 
from Morris's, told me that on the previous day 
the poet had written seven hundred lines of Jason. 
Rosset-ti's statement that he was "a millionaire" 
was the wild exaggeration of a poor painter. 

"The subject of The Blue Closet" Rossetti 
wrote, " is some people playing music." Mr. W. 
M. Rossetti tells us that when Mr. Rae " inserted 
in a catalogue of his pictures certain quotations 
from Morris's poems as illustrating The Tune of 
Seven Towers and The Blue Closet, Rossetti 
remarked, ' The quotations should have been left 
out, as the poems were the result of the pictures, 
but do not at all tally to any purpose with them, 
though beautiful in themselves.' ' John Parker, 
the editor of Frasers Magazine, wrote to " Shirley" 
on May 14, i860 : — " I saw Morris's poems in 
manuscript. Surely iQ-20ths of them are of the 
most obscure, watery, mystical, affected stuff pos- 
sible. The man who brought the manuscript 
(himself well known as a poet) said that ' one of 
the poems which described a picture of Rossetti 
was a very fine poem ; that the picture was not 
understandable, and the poem made it no clearer, 
but that it was a fine poem, nevertheless.' ' 

It was on the first floor of No. 17, Red Lion 
Square, that first Rossetti and Deverell, and after- 
wards Burnes-Jones and Morris, had their rooms. 



In June, 1857, ' I rowed down the Thames from 
Oxford to a village on the outskirts of London 
in company with William Morris and Charles 
Faulkner. With the improvidence of youth, by 
the time we reached Henley we had spent all our 
money except just enough to enable Faulkner to 
buy a return-ticket to Oxford, where he had to 
attend a college meeting. He was to bring back 
a supply in the evening. The weather was un- 
usually hot. Morris and I sauntered along the 
river-side. I have not forgotten the longing glances 
he cast on a large basket of strawberries. He had 
always been so plentifully supplied with money that 
he bore with far greater impatience than I did this 
privation. At last the shadows had grown long 
and the heat was more bearable. We went with 
light hearts to the railway station to meet our 
comrade. "Well, Faulkner," cried out Morris 
cheerfully, " how much money have you brought? " 
Our friend gave a start. "Good heavens!" he 
replied, " I forgot all about it." Morris thrust both 
his hands into his long dark curly hair, tugged at 
it wildly, ground his teeth, swore like a trooper, 
and stamped up and down the platform — in fact, 

1 Most of the following narrative will be found in my Talks 
about Autographs, page 136. Now that unhappily, by the death 
of William Morris, I am the sole survivor of the boat's crew, I 
can without impropriety add one or two circumstances which I 
had omitted. By a blunder I had given the date as 1858. I 
made another mistake in saying that Rossetti occupied the room 
with Burne-Jones. He - must have been a visitor that night like 


behaved just like Sinbad's captain when he found 
that his ship was driving upon the rocks. His out- 
bursts of rage, I hasten to say, were always harm- 
less. They left no sullenness behind, and as each 
rapidly passed away he was ready to join in a 
hearty laugh at it. Faulkner, who was not the 
most patient of men, noticed that passengers, 
stationmaster, porters, engine-driver, and stoker 
were all gazing in astonishment. He, too, lost 
his temper, and, though in a far lower key and with 
far fewer gesticulations, stormed back. Morris 
soon quieted down, and a council of war was held. 
He fortunately had a gold watch-chain, on which 
he raised enough money to pay all needful expenses. 
I remember well how the rest of our journey we 
rowed by many a tavern on the bank as effectually 
constrained as ever was Ulysses not to listen to its 
siren call. It was through no Earthly Paradise that 
the young poet and artist passed on the afternoon 
of our last day. When we reached the landing- 
stage where we were to leave our boat, our common 
stock of money amounted to just one penny. We 
were still six or seven miles from our destination ; 
but by neither train nor omnibus would our empty 
pockets allow us to travel, so we hired a cab. We 
were in some alarm lest we should come to a turn- 
pike-gate. At last we reached Red Lion Square, 
where we found Burne-Jones and Rossetti. At 
night five mattresses were spread on the carpetless 
floor, and there I slept amidst painters and poets. 1 

1 There may have been one or even two bedsteads in the 
room. Most of us, I am sure, slept on mattresses laid on the floor. 


Next morning I watched Burne -Jones painting 
some lilies in the garden of the Square. It was, 
I believe, the first time he painted in oils. 

The following is Ruskin's letter to Rossetti : — 

" Dear Rossetti, — I am wild to know who is 
the author of The Burden of Nineveh, in No. 8 of 
Oxford and Cambridge. It is glorious. Please 
find out for me, and see if I can get acquainted 
with him." 

On Rossetti's mention of Spiritualism in this 
letter, his brother remarks : "He here speaks 
scornfully of it. In later years (beginning, say, in 
1864) he believed in it not a little." 

Madox Brown wrote on April 9, 1868: "Blank 
gave a spirit soirde, at which Rossetti attended, and 
flowers grew under Blank's hands out of the dining- 
table and eau de Cologne was squirted over the 
guests in the dark ; but Gabriel, growing irreverent, 
and addressing the S.'s by the too familiar appella- 
tion of ' Bogies,' they squirted plain (it must be 
hoped clean) water over those present and with- 
drew. So the report runs — I was not there." 

"Our daughter," wrote Mrs. Howitt, "had, 
both by her pen and pencil, taken her place 
amongst the successful artists and writers of the 
day, when, in the spring of 1856, a severe private 
censure of one of her oil-paintings by a king among 
critics so crushed her sensitive nature as to make 
her yield to her bias for the supernatural and with- 
draw from the ordinary arena of the fine arts. In 
the spring of 1856 we had become acquainted with 


several most ardent and honest spirit-mediums. I 
was invited to a stance at Professor De Morgan's, 
and was much astonished and affected by communi- 
cations purporting to come to me from my dear son 
Claude. With constant prayer for enlightenment 
and guidance we experimented at home. I felt 
thankful for the assurance thus gained of an 
invisible world, but resolved to neglect none of my 
common duties for spiritualism." 

Hawthorne, who had met Mrs. Browning in the 
summer of this year, recorded in his note-book : 
" She introduced the subject of spiritualism, which, 
she says, interests her very much ; indeed, she 
seems to be a believer. Mr. Browning, she told 
me, utterly rejects the subject, and will not believe 
even in the outward manifestation, of which there 
is such overwhelming evidence." 

A year or two earlier I was present at an evening 
party at Professor De Morgan's, where a German 
exhibited a plan of ancient Jerusalem, which he had 
drawn, he said, by the aid of clairvoyance. 


14, Chatham Place, Blackfriars. 

\_End 0/1856.]. 
Dear Allingham, 

I wish, in writing again to me (which of 
course you're yearning to do by this time) you'd 


tell me whereabouts it was in the Brit. Mus. 
Print Room, that you saw an indescribable print 
which you described to me at the time — Early 
German, I believe, and in several compartments, 
if I remember rightly. I am going sometimes 
there now, and having made some fruitless searches 
after that print, which excited me at the time I 
thought I wouldn't be licked, if a note by you 
would help. 

What sort of Xmas weather have you out there ? 
Is it any good wishing you merriment out of it? 
To-day here is neither a bright day nor a dark day, 
but a white smutty day, — piebald, — wherein, accord- 
ingly, life seems neither worth keeping nor getting 
rid of. The thick sky has a thin red sun stuck 
in the middle of it, like the specimen wafer stuck 
outside a box of them. Even if you turned back 
the lid, there would be nothing behind it, be sure, 
but a jumble of such flat dead suns. I am going 
to sleep. 

Are you to write the next great modern epic ? 
If so, you may put the above into blank verse. 
I give it you. And meanwhile, be sure to talk 
to me about Aurora Leigh. 

I have little news for you. One sad piece though, 
by the bye, for which you'll be sorry. Poor Tom 
Seddon died last month at Cairo. He had been 
married, and had a boy since last returning thence, 


and went back there to pursue the path he had 
struck out, and is dead. I am pretty sure you knew 

Ruskin wants me very much to enter the old 
water-colour society, and says John Lewis will do 
anything to facilitate my entrance. This would be 
a great advantage to the sale of my water-colours, 
but I fear it might chance to bonnet my oil-painting 
for good. I don't know what to do. 

Your friend, 

D. G. Rossetti. 

P.S. — I'll certainly claim your photograph. I 
enclose you one in return from one of my blocks 
— St. Cicely {Palace of Art). It is a horrid bad 

photograph, but as D 1 has had the settling 

of the thing since it becomes of some interest. 

Notes on XXXIII. 

" Thomas Seddon," writes Mr. W. M. Rossetti, 
" died of dysentery very soon after his arrival at 
Cairo, and a life full of brightness, and a career 
full of high promise, were suddenly cut short at 
the early age of thirty-five." His health, which 
had long been delicate, had suffered much on 
the voyage from Marseilles to Alexandria. The 
weather was rough and the accommodation and 
food were bad. On his arrival he gave himself 
no rest. He was attacked by dysentery, which 


soon carried him off. Over his pure spirit the 
gloom of Sabbatarianism was cast. From his 
deathbed he wrote to his wife: — "This is a sharp 
curb, just as I felt ready to set to at my work ; 
but God has humbled me, and I trust proved me, 
and I believe punished me for a want of sufficient 
attention to his Sabbath, for if instead of walking 
about all day before and after church I had spent 
both Sundays quietly at home I might have been 
spared this." Mr. Holman Hunt tells me that of 
this inner gloom little was known even by his 
intimate friends. He was fond of playing prac- 
tical jokes — somewhat cruel ones, too. 

Rossetti never entered the Old Water-Colour 

Towards the end of 1856 Madox Brown wrote : — 
" Rossetti has been here nearly a fortnight, coming 
about twelve, and working or not working at his 
drawing on wood for St Cecilia. It is jolly quaint 
but very lovely." 


14, Chatham Place, E.C. 

Friday [Postmark Jan. 31, 1857]. 
Dear Allingham, 

Will you be on the Committee as per en- 
closure ? And will you answer at once — as I fancy 
the list may be making out. 


I enclose also a little poem, pitched on — where ? 
— in Reynolds Miscellany / and the authorship of 
which I want to find out. Do not you ? 

I shall write again soon, and trust to have another 
photograph for you. 

Your D. G. R. 

Some people say here you wrote A. S. Of course 
I have undeceived some, and did not spread the 
report. I believe (entre nous) Maclennan did, being 
a great friend of Smith. I like Abbey Easaroe. 

Notes on XXXIV. 

The Committee was that of the Seddon Subscrip- 
tion Fund. In a resolution moved by Holman 
Hunt and seconded by D. G. Rossetti, Thomas 
Seddon was described as " an artist, who, having 
proposed to himself the application of absolute truth 
in landscape to scenes of high historic and sacred 
interest, undertook two journeys to the East, in 
which he unflinchingly grappled with difficulties 
previously deemed insurmountable, and the second 
of which terminated his life at an early age." 

With the money which was raised his " admirably 
faithful view of Jerusalem" was purchased for the 
National Gallery. 

The following is "the little poem pitched on in 
Reynolds Miscellany" — vol. xvii. p. 360. 



Before the daybreak I arise 
And search, to find if earth or air 

Hold anywhere 
The likeness of thy sweet, sweet eyes. 

In nature's book, 
Where semblances of thee I trace, 
I mark the place, 
With flowers that have a pleading look, 

For pity, gentleness and grace, 
With lilies white ; 
And roses that are burning bright 
I take for blushes : then I catch 
The sunbeams from the jealous air, 

And with them match 
The amber crowning of thy hair. 

The dews that shine on withering wood, 

Or thirsty lands, 
Quietly busy doing good, 

Are like thy hands. 
The brown-eyed sunflower, all the day 

Looking one way, 
I take for patience, made divine 
By melancholy fears like thine. 

Ere break of day 
I'm up and searching earth and air, 

To find out where, 

If find I may,. 
Nature hath copied to her praise 
The beauty of thy gracious ways. 

The wild sweet-brier 
Shows through the book in many a place, 
But for the smiling in thy face 

She would not have her good attire. 


Sometimes I walk the stubbly ways 

That have small praise, 
But spy out ne'ertheless, 
Some patch of moss, all softly pied, 
Or rude stone, with a speckled side, 

Telling thy loveliness. 
I make believe the brooks that run 

With pleasant noise, 
From sun to shade, and shade to sun, 

Mimic thy murmured joys. 

So, dearest heart, 
I cheat the cruelty 
That keeps us all so long apart, 

With many a poor conceit of thee. 

The songs of birds, 
Floating the orchard tops among, 
Echo the music of thy tongue ; 
And fancy tries to find what words 

Come nestling to my breast 
With melody so excellently dressed. 

Before the daybreak I arise, 
And search through earth, and sky, and air, 
But find I never anywhere 

The likeness of thy sweet, sweet eyes, 
My modest lady, my exceeding fair." 

The authorship of these lines I have not been able 
to discover. 

Abbey Asaroe (not Easaroe) is printed in Ailing- 
ham's Irish Songs and Poems, p. 45. 



\Undated. Water-mark of letter paper 1858. J 

My dear Allingham, 

... I have one of the Magdalene photo- 
graphs for you — but do not know how to reach 
you with it. If I knew I would accompany it 
with one of the Henry Taylor photos (Quoth 
tongue &c.) of which I expect an instalment. 
... I think you told me long ago that you had 
recovered those proof sheets of my Italian Poets 
(on whose loss, by the bye, I hope you have not 
really based my lazy silence, which was pure lazi- 
ness) and that they contain some notes of yours. 
If so, I should like to have the benefit of these, 
and would be glad to see them. I expect soon to 
have copied all of my own verses which I care to 
copy, with a view to printing some day. I have 
often benefited by your criticism, and if you would 
not find it a bore I would send you the MS. book, 
and ask you to annotate it freely, and to tell me 
of any pieces therein contained which you would 
omit altogether. A good number of my perpe- 
trations I have already excluded. Of course you 
know our common race too well to think that I 
should always benefit by a warning though one 
rose from the grave — but I am sure I should get 
something out of you. If I can be of any use at 


all in your dealings with Bell & Daldy, through 
their being such near neighbours of mine, pray 
tell me. 

And believe me, 

dear Allingham, 

yours affectionately 

D. G. Rossetti. 

Notes on XXXV. 

" The Magdalene photograph " was of the pen- 
and-ink drawing of Mary Magdalene at the door 
of Simon the Pharisee. 

" The Henry Taylor photograph " is of another 
pen-and-ink drawing, Hesternce Rosce. "It repre- 
sents," to quote the words of Mr. W. M. Rossetti, 
" a tent occupied by a group of men and women— 
the men throwing dice, one of the women sadly 
reminiscent of the vanished days of her innocence ; 
and it bears the motto of Sir Henry Taylor's verses 
in Philip van Artevelde (Part ii., act v.). 

" ' Quoth tongue of neither maid nor wife 
To heart of neither wife nor maid, 
Lead we not here a jolly life 
Betwixt the shine and shade ? 

Quoth heart of neither maid nor wife 
To tongue of neither wife nor maid, 

Thou wagg'st, but I am worn with strife, 
And feel like flowers that fade.' " 



Thursday, [shortly before Christmas, 1859]. 

My dear Allingham, 

Many thanks for your volume just received. 
I was agreeably surprised to see my sister's name on 
your list, — deservedly, I think. 

The book is all the welcomer that it leads me to 
hope I was mistaken in a conclusion I had begun 
arriving at, that I must unwittingly have incurred 
the displeasure of one of my oldest and most 
valued friends, no other than yourself. Your 
silence before going and since I wrote to you 
had led me to fear this possibility. Now, if it 
is so, will you tell me downright, and the why ? 
But perhaps you are only paying me out in my 
own coin, — if utter absence of answer can be 
considered payment in any sense, — in which case 
I must confess I could only cry, Mea Culpa ! 

By the bye, that is the title of a queer little 
poem, evidently modern, in your collection, with 
no name to it. Whose is it ? Or where got 
you it ? 

A merry Christmas and " warious games of that 
sort " to you. 

Yours affectionately, 

D. G. Rossetti. 


Notes on XXXVI. 

In Allingham's Nightingale Valley, a Collection 
of Choice Lyrics and Short Poems, just published, 
Christina Rossetti's An End was included. 

" Warious games of that sort" would seem to 
have been a favourite quotation with Rossetti, 
for this was the second time he made it in his 
correspondence with Allingham. 


[Christmas, 1859.] 
My dear Allingham, 

I was very glad to hear from you at last, 
but sorry and surprised to hear that your ailments 
have not quite left you even yet. I had understood 
from William that you were very much better when 
he saw you shortly before you went back. May 
health come to you as the chief pleasure of the 
season, and all the others with it. 

Apart from the defect found by Ruskin in N. V. 
[Nightingale Valley\ — and more apparent (sin- 
cerely) to him than to me, as I should wish almost 
any printed poem of mine to appear when next 
printed with certain revisions — there are various 
holes I have to pick in the book. I will turn 


over my copy now I have read it and marked it, 
and pull you up by it. First then, I have scored 
the following as doubtful " Choicest English 
Poems " — 2 ?'s denoting double doubt. 

? ? Wake, Lady. [Joanna Baillie.] 
Fair Ines. [Thomas Hood.] 
The Seven Sisters. [William Wordsworth.] 
The Amulet. [R. W. Emerson.] 
Abou Ben Adhem. [Leigh Hunt.J 

? ? Ode to the Cuckoo. [John Logan.] 

? ? Season for Wooing. [W. C. Bryant.] 
The Idle Voyager. [Hartley Coleridge.] 
The Last Day of Autumn. [From the 

To Mary in Heaven. 1 [Robert Burns.] 
The Northern Star. [Anonymous.] 
To Lucasta. [R. Lovelace.] 
The Fugitives. 2 [P. B. Shelley.] 

? ? Song from the Spanish. [W. C. Bryant.] 
Adieu. [Thomas Carlyle.] 
To a Sky Lark. [William Wordsworth.] 
Ned Bolton (hardly as good as Dibden's 

1 The Heavens nevertheless as yet not falling on me. 

2 Nor the mountains hitherto covering me. This always seems 
to me a desperately loose piece of writing. 

" In the court of the fortress, 
Beside the pale portress '' — 

Fancy a fortress with a portress to keep the thieves out, &c , 
&c. [Note by RossettL] 


best. Why is not Tom Bowling in 
at this rate?). [William Kennedy.] 

An Angel in the House. [Leigh Hunt.] 

Disdain Returned. [Thomas Carew.] 

Inscription for Fountain. [Barry Cornwall.] 

The Exile. [Thomas Hood.] 

Lord Ullin's Daughter. [Thomas Camp- 
? ? ? The Hour of Prayer. [Felicia Hemans.] 

Song from Lady of Lake. [" Soldier rest ! 
thy warfare o'er." Walter Scott] 

To a Cold Beauty. 

Evening. [Alfred Tennyson.] 

Phillida and Corydon. [Nicholas Breton.] 

The Knight's Tomb (the only good lines, at 
the end, being old). [S. T. Cole- 
ridge. J 

The Angel (hardly Blake's best). 

The Skylark. [James Hogg.] 

Ballad. [" She's up and gone." Thomas 

Down on the Shore (more than 2 thirds 
of this author being better). [William 

May and Death (not B.'s best). [Robert 

I don't mean to say that, taking all the lump of 
British Poetry, I mightn't have even further sub- 


stitutions to propose (absentees occurring at the 
moment, Herbert — Byron — Henry Taylor ! !), but 
those marked above I think misplaced even apart 
from the question of varying taste — most on abso- 
lute artistic grounds — the others as compared with 
their writers' powers. 

Now I really think, to continue, there's much 
too much Wordsworth. He's good, you know, but 
unbearable. I don't pretend to have read all you've 
put in of his, but noticed with sorrow that he has 
two more pieces in the book than Tennyson, who 
comes next, and 6 more than Shakespeare — one 
morceau of Wordsworth, which I had not met 
with anywhere- else (To my Maiden Sister, sent 
by my Dear Wife's (and my own) darling boy, — 
or something like that), drew my pencil, I confess, 
to the margin in a moment, with the compound 
adjective " puffy-muffy, " not inapplicable to much 
I have found in the same excellent writer. 

Then of the Shakespeare sonnets inserted, the 
only one which, to my thinking, ranks among his 
very first is the Loves Consolation. In The 
Wife of Ushers Well, I do not think the inserted 
stanza indispensible [sic] to the sense, and don't 
you agree with me that modern additions are best 
avoided, if possible ? 

Barthrams Dirge is, I believe, undoubtedly by 
Surtees. Sic Vita, you probably know, is often 


printed with two or three more stanzas of the 
same length as the one you give, but these 
perhaps you reject as spurious. I do not bear 
them in mind. 

In Ulalume you have omitted two lines at the 
close of stanza 6 I believe. Ought it not to run 

" In terror she spoke letting sink her 
Plumes till [Wings until] they trailed in the dust, 
In agony sobbed letting sink her 
Wings [Plumes] till they trailed in the dust, 
Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust.'' 

Au reste, you have cut out that abominable 

So there I have made enough objections, — 
humbly, mostly, I beg you to believe, — and not 
said a word yet of all the praise the book 
deserves — full as much as Ruskin gives it. Your 
preface is most excellent, and will show the wise 
ones that the editor is " somebody " besides 
Giraldus. And why Giraldus ? And why, I 
would almost say, Nightingale Valley, had I not 
almost said too much already. 

Mea Ctdpa I described as a queer poem, in my 
last, lest by any possibility it should be written 
by any one I hated. The fact, as I thought then 
and think now, is that it is an extremely fine one 
— I think one of your very finest. I half suspected 


you, but it is not very recognizable as yours. 
What a splendid version you have of Auld Robin 
Gray ! Is it altered at all by W. A. ? 
Yours affectionately, 

D. G. R. 

Notes on XXXVII. 

" The defect found by Ruskin " in Nightingale 
Valley was, it seems probable, Allingham's re- 
vision of some of the poems. 

Rossetti's admiration of Henry Taylor's poetry 
in his early manhood is mentioned by Mr. Holman 
Hunt in the following passage: — "Rossetti delighted 
most in those poems for which the world then had 
shown but little appreciation. Sordello and Para- 
celsus he would give by forty and fifty pages at a 
time, and what were more fascinating, the shorter 
poems of Browning. Then would follow the grand 
rhetoric from Taylor's Philip van Artevelde, in the 
scene between the herald and the Court at Ghent 
with Philip in reply." 

The " morceau of Wordsworth" is entitled, To 
my Sister. Written at a Small Distance from my 
House, and sent by my Little Boy. Matthew 
Arnold included it in that selection of the poet's 
works of which he writes : " The volume contains, 
I think, everything, or nearly everything, which 
may best serve him with the majority of lovers of 
poetry, nothing which may disserve him." Accord- 
ing to Mr. Hall Caine, as quoted by Mr. W. M. 


Rossetti, " Rossetti thought Wordsworth was too 
much the high priest of Nature to be her lover." 
Mr. Caine speaks also of " Rossetti's grudging 
Wordsworth every vote he gets." His indifference 
to the beautiful poet was perhaps due to his having 
spent all his childhood and youth, and most of his 
manhood, in London. 

It was no doubt by mistake that the two lines 
had been omitted in Ulalume. " That abominable 
vista " is found in the eighth stanza : — 

" Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her, 
And tempted her out of her gloom — 
And conquered her scruples and gloom ; 
And we passed to the end of the vista, 
But were stopped by the door of a tomb." 

Allingham edited Poe's Poems for Routledge in 
1857. In the preface he says: "In our private 
copy of Ulalume we have taken the liberty to ex- 
punge the rhyme of vista in the eighth stanza, 
reading the line thus : — 

" And we passed from the shade as I kissed her." 

It was this emendation, introduced in Nightingale 
Valley without acknowledgment, that Rossetti 
praised. This poem and others of Poe's "were 
a deep well of delight to Rossetti in his early 
years," as his brother tells us. The ordinary 
reader may perhaps be forgiven if he looks upon 
Ulalume as highly melodious rant. If the cockney 
rhyme which Rossetti found abominable seemed 


correct to Poe's ear, it was perhaps due to the 
five years he spent in his boyhood in a school at 
Stoke Newington. Rossetti, it will be remem- 
bered, had himself made calm rhyme with arm, 
so that he had little reason to be offended. 

"Ruskin," as Allingham told Mr. W. M. 
Rossetti, " wrote a warm little note to the ' editor 
of Nightingale Valley ;' calling it the best collection 
he ever saw." On the title-page it is described 
as "edited by Giraldus." 

Allingham's Mea Culpa is as follows : — 

" At me one night the angry moon, 
Suspended to a rim of cloud, 
Glared through the courses of the wind. 
Suddenly there my spirit bow'd, 
And shrank into a fearful swoon, 
That made me deaf and blind. 

We sinn'd — we sin — is that a dream ? 
We wake — there is no voice nor stir ; 
Sin and repent from day to day, 
As though some reeking murderer 
Should dip his hand in a running stream, 
And lightly go his way. 

Embrace me fiends and wicked men, 
For I am of your crew. Draw back, 
Pure women, children with clear eyes. 
Let scorn confess me on his rack, — 
Stretch'd down by force, uplooking then 
Into the solemn skies ! 

Singly we pass the gloomy gate ; 
Some robed in honour, full of peace, 


Who of themselves are not aware ; 
Being fed with secret wickedness, 
And comforted with lies ; my fate 
Moves fast ; I shall come there. 

All is so usual, hour by hour, 
Men's spirits are so lightly twirl'd 
By every little gust of sense ; 
Who lays to heart this common world ? 
Who lays to heart the Ruling Power, 
Just, infinite, intense? 

Thou wilt not frown, O God. Yet we 
Escape not Thy transcendent law ; 
It reigns within us and without. 
What earthly vision never saw 
Man's naked soul may suddenly see, 
Dreadful, past thought or doubt." 


Paris, Wednesday, [June, i860]. 

My dear Allingham, 

Have you heard yet that I'm married? 
The news is hardly a month old, so it may not 
have reached you, though I have meant to write 
you word of it all along, as you are one of the 
few valued friends whom Lizzie and I have in 
common as yet ; nor, as the circle spreads, will she 


be likely to feel a warmer regard for any than she 
does for you. 

Of her health all I can say is that it is possible 
to give rather better news of it than I could have 
given a month ago. Paris seems to agree so well 
with her that I am fearful of returning to London 
(which, however, we must do in a day or two) lest 
it should throw her back into the terrible state of 
illness she had been in for some time before. But 
in that case I shall make up my mind to settle in 
Paris for a time, as I could no doubt paint here 
well enough. In any case I expect a move, as 
winter comes on, will be necessary. 

You know I have been meaning to inflict my 
vol. of MS. rhymes on you for some time, but 
have been so busy lately and wanted to copy a 
little more first. I shall try and send them yet. 
When shall we be likely to see you again in 
London ? Jones is married, too, only a week ago. 
He and his wife (a charming and most gifted little 
woman) were to have met us in Paris, but he has 
not been well enough to travel with pleasure. 

With love from both of us I remain, 

Your affectionate 

D. G. Rossetti. 

Notes on XXXVIII. 

Rossetti was married to Miss Siddal at Hastings 


on May 23, i860. On April 13, in a letter to his 
mother about the approaching event, he wrote : — 
" Like all the important things I ever meant to do, 
— to fulfill duty or secure happiness, — this one has 
been deferred almost beyond possibility." Ruskin, 
writing to congratulate him, said : — " I think Ida 
should be very happy to see how much more 
beautifully, perfectly, and tenderly you draw when 
you are drawing her than when you draw anybody 
else. She cures you of all your worst faults when 
you look at her." 

Mr. W. M. Rossetti, speaking of Lady Burne- 
Jones, says : " Two of her sisters are Mrs. [now 
Lady] Poynter, wife of the director of the National 
Gallery [now President of the Royal Academy], 
and Mrs. Kipling, mother of Mr. Rudyard Kip- 

It was during this visit to Paris (according to 
Mr. William Sharp) that Rossetti completed his 
drawing called Dr. Johnson and the Methodistical 
Young Ladies at the Mitre Tavern. Among the 
very few works of history and biography that he 
had read " Boswell's Johnson held a high place." 

The following anecdote of the end of Rossetti's 
wedding trip I have from Mr. Arthur Hughes : — 
"It was from Munro I had the story that D. G. R., 
having spent his honeymoon and all his money in 
Paris, was returning, when he read in the first 
paper he got on the way, of the sudden death of 
a friend (not a great friend at all, I think), a writer 
named Brough, one of the class of which James 



Hannay was a prominent type — a young man with 
a wife and two little children. Rossetti knew that 
ways and means would be doubly deficient to the 
widow in such circumstances. He had spent all 
his own now ; but a certain portion of that existed 
in jewelry upon Mrs. Rossetti, who no doubt fully 
sympathised with the trouble in question, so that 
when they reached London they did not go straight 
home, but drove first to a pawnbroker, and then to 
the B rough lodgings, and after that home, with 
entirely empty pockets ; but, I expect, two very 
full hearts." 


Spring Cottage, Downshire Hill, Hampstead, 

[July 31, i860]. 
My dear Allingham, 

I was very sorry to miss you, and very 
glad to hear from you. At the time you were 
still in town I was so harrassed [sic] with house- 
hunting and my wife was so unwell that I found 
it daily impossible to see you till the time was past. 
I hope it may come again as soon as possible, and 
at a more propitious time. I have succeeded in 
getting no permanent quarters yet, but we have a 
very nice little lodging as above, and I am obliged 
to go in and out every day to my work, which I 
could postpone no longer. I have the Blackfriars 


rooms till Michaelmas in any case — so before then 
I hope we may be settled down elsewhere. It 
must be hereabouts, as no other part near London 
would be half so suitable to my wife. The diffi- 
culties are manifold : — all houses to let are either 
too large, or else must be taken on too long a lease 
for us who do not know whether we may not be 
forced away altogether, or at any rate for every 

Lizzie is getting a little stronger now after a very 
bad attack of illness ; but she is still so weak that 
the least excitement knocks her up again, and 
always so obstinately plucky in illness that there 
is no keeping her down if she can only be up and 
doing. The other day she saw Ned and his wife 
for the first time, and we all went with the Browns 
to the Zoological Gardens, but it was more than she 
ought to have done. To-day is the last day of the 
Academy, and we are still uncertain this morning 
whether it will be wise for her to go, though I have 
cut my day's work for the purpose. It is very 
provoking to be unable to take her to see so many 
kind friends, all so pressing and anxious, or even to 
let them come to us. 

I am anxious about the Sawdust Poem, but am 
not sure that that product is better adapted for 
wholesome spiritual bread than it is for the bodily. 
Sawdust, more or less, however, is the fashion of 


the day ; 's wooden puppet-show of enlarged 

views instead of Veronese's flesh, blood, and slight 
stupidity. Give me the latter, however, — or even 
Millais' when Veronese's is not to be had. But O 
that Veronese at Paris ! 

As to Ruskin's ten years' res-t, I do not know 
about his writing, but I will answer for my reading, 
if he only writes like his article in the Cornhill this 
month. Who could read it, or anything about such 
bosh ! 

Ruskin, by the bye, carried off that MS. book of 
mine some little while before he left England, and 
has not returned it ; but I am trying to get it 
through the servants at his place, and still trust to 
send it you, though indeed I sincerely suspect it 
would be better for me to stick to painting only 
and let it be. However, I do not mean to let it 
interfere at all with that, and then, if it is rot, it 
will not matter much. You tell me you are in 
Part 2 of your Poem, but not when Part 3 and 
publication seem likely. I know no more than 
yourself of the matter of Browning's Poem, though 
he told me of it (and of an additional series of Men 
and Women in progress !) when he wrote to me 
lately, and sent the portraits. I had given him 
a splendid cast of Keats's head, which I got from 
Donovan (the same I once had before and broke, if 
you remember). I had a mould taken by Munro 


before I sent the cast off, so can let you have a 
copy, if you care to be put in mind of mere straw- 
berry-merchants. . . . 

By the bye I remember sending you a little book 
of bogy poems in emblematic green cover, and 
hearing from you that you had one already. If 
you still have mine, would you oblige me by send- 
ing it back, as I sometimes think of it when I want 
to be surprised. 

Do write to me again, and I'll try to be a better 
correspondent, now I'm married and settled. My 
wife and I are 

Yours affectionately, 

D. G. 

E. E. 

Notes on XXXIX. 

Spring Cottage has disappeared. It was within 
two or three minutes' walk of the house in which 
Keats had lodged some forty years earlier. 

Some time in the following year Rossetti wrote 
to Madox Brown : — " Dear Brown, Lizzie and I 
propose to meet Georgie and Ned [Mr. and Mrs. 
Burne-Jones] at 2 p.m. to-morrow at the Zoo- 
logical Gardens — place of meeting the Wombat's 
Lair." The wombat had a strange attraction for 
Rossetti. On September 15, 1869, he wrote to 
his brother : — " Will you thank Maggie for her 
most complete information about the Passover, 



Also Christina for the Shrine in the Italian taste 
which she has reared for the wombat. I fear his 
habits tend inveterately to drain architecture." 
Six days later he wrote: — "The Wombat is 'A 
Joy, a Triumph, a Delight, a Madness.'" Madox 
Brown used to tell how at Rossetti's house one day 
at dinner, the wombat, " who occupied a place of 
honour on the ^pergne, descending unobserved 
during a heated discussion, devoured the entire 
contents of a valuable box of cigars." 

"The Sawdust Poem" is probably described in 
the following letter of Allingham's, dated March 12, 
i860 : — "I am doing something occasionally at a 
poem on Irish matters, to have two thousand lines 
or so, and can see my way through it. One part 
out of three is done. But alas ! when all's done, 
who will like it ? Think of the Landlord and 
Tenant Question in flat decasyllables ! Did you 
ever hear of the Irish coaster that was hailed, 
' Smack ahoy ! what's your cargo ? ' ' Timber and 
fruit ! ' ' What sort ? ' ' Besoms and potatoes ! ' 
I fear my poem will no better fulfil expectations." 
This poem was first published in Frasers Magazine, 
1862-3, under the title of Laurence Bloomfield, or 
Rich and Poor in Ireland. In the preface Ailing- 
ham says : — " A man who was neither English nor 
Irish, Ivan Tourganief, after reading the book, said 
to a friend of the author (who may be forgiven for 
recalling the words), ' I never understood Ireland 
before.' " 

Rossetti, a month earlier, had seen Veronese's 


Marriage in Cana. He described it as " the 
greatest picture in the world, beyond a doubt." 
His brother writes that "later on, 1871, he had 
got to think Veronese (and also Tintoret) ' simply 
detestable without their colour and handling.' ' 

The August number of the Cornhill Magazine 
contained the first part of Ruskin's Unto this Last. 
Mr. Collingwood, writing of Ruskin's stay at 
Chamounix in July, i860, says: — "He was far 
from well ; feeling, for the first time to a serious 
degree, the morbid depression which some of the 
letters of the period indicate ; and turning over in 
his mind the thoughts he was embodying in a new 
series of Essays on Political Economy. These new 
papers, painfully thought out and carefully set down 
in his room at the Hotel de 1' Union, he sent to his 
friend Thackeray. His reputation as a writer and 
philanthropist, together with the friendliness of editor 
and publisher, secured the insertion of the first three 
from August to October. Thackeray then wrote to 
say that they were so unanimously condemned and 
disliked that, with all apologies, he could only admit 
one more. So the series was brought hastily to a 
conclusion in November ; and the author, beaten 
back as he had never been beaten before, dropped the 
subject and 'sulked,' as he called it, all the winter." 

Donovan was a phrenologist of King William 
Street, who was known by the casts he used to 
take of murderers as soon as they were hanged. 
The cast of Keats's head is reproduced in Mr. 
Buxton Forman's Letters of John Keats. 


Of " the little book of bogy poems " I give an 
account in a note on Letter XLVII. 

Mrs. Rossetti's Christian names were Elizabeth 


\September or October, i860.] 
My dear Allingham, 

I am sending you them things at last, 
i.e., the MSS. which Ruskin has only just re- 
turned me ; I having asked him to send one — 
viz. Jenny, to the Comhill for me — he of course 
refusing to send that, offering to send some of 
the mystical ones that I don't care to print by 

My delay has been partly through this, and 
partly through wanting to add more before send- 
ing them to you. But they'd better e'en go now, 
for no more will get done for the nonce. The 
only one very unfinished, both in what is written 
and unwritten (I think), is The Brides Chamber. 
I wish you'd specially tell me of any you don't 
think worth including. You will find that your 
advice has been followed often (if you remember 
what you gave), and so it is not time wasted to 
advise me. When I think how old most of these 


things are, it seems like a sort of mania to keep 
thinking of them still ; but I suppose one's leaning 
still to them depends mainly on their having no 
trade associations, and being still a sort of thing 
of one's own. I have no definite ideas as to doing 
anything with them, but should like, even if they 
lie at rest, to make them as good as I can. 

And what are you doing ? How goes the saw- 
dust poem you spoke of? And is it to be 
visible that wine is packed therein, or is a pure 
surface of sawdust, betraying no wine, the duty of 
the modern bard ? So may the Shade of Words- 
worth smile on him and repay him by reading all 
his (W.'s) Poems through to him when the kindred 
Spirits meet. 

I wish you were in town, to see you sometimes, 
for I literally see no one now except Madox Brown 
pretty often, and even he is gone now to join 
Morris, who is out of reach at Upton, and with 
them is married Jones painting the inner walls of 
the house that Top built. But as for the neigh- 
bours, when they see men pourtrayed by Jones 
upon the walls, the images of the Chaldeans 
pourtrayed (by him /) in Extract Vermilion, ex- 
ceeding all probability in dyed attire upon their 
heads, after the manner of no Babylonians of any 
Chaldea, the land of any one's nativity, — as soon 
as they see them with their eyes, shall they not 


account him doting, and send messengers into 
Colney Hatch ? 

Lizzie has been rather better of late, I hope — 
certainly not subject to the same extent to violent 
fits of illness. She is at Brighton just now for a 
few days, but I know I may send you her love 
with mine. We are sorely put to it for a pied-a- 
terre, every house we try for seeming to slip 
through just as we think we have got it. For one 
in Church Row, Hampstead, which has just escaped 
us, my heart is in doleful dumps ; it having a 
glorious old-world garden worth ^200 a year to 
me for backgrounds. 

Do let me hear from you (to Blkfrs [Blackfriars]) 
when you have got the book which goes with this, 
and believe me 

Yours affectionately, 

D. G. Rossetti. 

William is gone to Florence to old Browning. 

Notes on XL. 

Jenny was begun as early as 1847, was almost 
finished about 1858, and was published in 1870. 
"Mr. Ruskin," writes Mr. W. M. Rossetti, "sent 
a letter criticising the poem, one of his objections 
being that 'Jenny ' is not a true rhyme to 'guinea,' 
as in the opening couplet : 


: Lazy, laughing, languid Jenny, 
Fond of a kiss and fond of a guinea.' 

This I regard as the stricture of a Scotchman." 

Bride-Chamber Talk was begun as soon as 
Jenny, but was not published till 1881, when its 
title was changed to The Bride s Prelude. 

Rossetti took part in painting Morris's house. 
In the record of his work for 1858-59 his 
brother mentions the " Salutatio Beatricis, repre- 
senting Dante meeting Beatrice in Florence, and 
in the garden of Eden, painted in oil in a week 
on a door in Mr. Morris's residence, The Red 
House, Upton, near Bexley Heath, Woolwich." 
I remember the beautiful paintings on the doors 
and furniture in this pleasant house. I have not 
forgotten, moreover, a long and eager talk on 
pigments between my host and Charles Faulkner, 
of which I did not understand a single word. 
Towards the close of 1865 Madox Brown re- 
corded : — " Morris leaves his house, and takes up 
with the Firm in a large house in Queen Square." 

Morris in his Oxford days, and indeed long after- 
wards, was always known by the name of Topsy or 
Top, given him after the girl in Uncle Toms Cabin. 

Colney Hatch is a lunatic asylum near London. 

The house in Church Row with its garden worth 
^200 a year for backgrounds recalls the anecdote of 
Linnell's purchase of Redstone Wood. "His solicitor 
told him the price asked was excessive. Linnell's 
reply was : ' Never mind, the land will prove a good 


investment; it will give me foregrounds — indeed, 
most of the materials I need for my pictures.' " 



ist November [i860]. 

Dear Allingham, 

I'm wanting to copy and illustrate some 
poem of mine in the album of a kind and good lady 
— Mrs. Dalrymple — whether known or unknown 
to you I am not sure. Now do not hurry any 
consideration you may mean to bestow on my 
MSS., as I feel sure they will benefit thereby ; 
but when you can, let me have them again, without 
their losing such advantage. I have thus much 
need of them as I have no other copies now. 

And what do you think of Faithful for Ever ? 
And have you seen Ruskin's letter to the Critic 
about it, in answer to a spiteful attack there ? I 
was very sorry to hear what you wrote me about 
the Author's wife — poor thing — but I hope she may 
be mending as one hears no more. I wrote to 
Patmore after reading his book, which he sent me, 
saying all that I (most sincerely) admired in it, 
but perhaps leaving some things unsaid ; for what 


can it avail to say some things to a man after his 
third volume? "Of love which never finds its 
published close, what sequel ? " And how many ? ! 

A man (one Gilchrist, who lives next door to 
Carlyle, and is as near him in other respects as he 
can manage) wrote to me the other day, saying he 
was writing a life of Blake, and wanted to see my 
manuscript by that genius. Was there not some 
talk of your doing something in the way of publishing 
its contents ? I know William thought of doing so, 
but fancy it might wait long for his efforts ; and I 
have no time, but really think its contents ought to 
he edited, especially if a new Life gives a "shove 
to the concern " (as Spurgeon expressed himself in 
thanking a liberal subscriber to his Tabernacle). I 
have not yet engaged myself any way to said 
Gilchrist on the subject, though I have told him he 
can see it here if he will give me a day's notice. 

By the bye, talking of Blake, did I (I think I 
did) solicit from you one of the two copies you 
have, or had, of a certain greenish Book of Bogies, 
one whereof was once sent you by the present 
applicant, who lately found out from the Ghost's 
publisher that the literary character is quite out of 
print and has no further views on the British press ? 
And again — how am I to send a certain photo- 
graph which lies here inscribed to you ? Or shall I 
keep it till you come ? 


Lizzie has been rather stronger lately, and we 
have resolved (after much vain house-hunting about 
Hampstead and Highgate) to weather out the 
winter here at Blackfriars, taking the 2nd floor 
in the next house in addition to these rooms (the 
landlord of both being the same, and he offering 
us the floor at a moderate rent). We could have 
a door opened between the two floors — a plan 
adopted throughout the two houses — and feel at 
home, and settled for the time being. 

You know William is back from Florence, etc. — 
having found the Brownings at Siena — the great 
one exuberant as ever. I had a request the other 
day to illustrate Aurora Leigh, from, or rather on 
the part of, the publisher, but really I don't think I 
could make much of it. However, if it were done 
by various hands, I should like to make one among 
them. R. B. was not very explicit to William on 
the subject of his present labours. 

Have you seen a new vol., — however, I'm not 
quite sure the copies are all out yet, — viz., 2 plays 
by Algernon Swinburne and did you meet him in 
London ? He is very Topsaic, with a decided dash 
of Death's Jest Book, if you have read that improv- 
ing book. But there's no mistake about some of 
his poems — much more, indeed, than these published 
plays. The other day Ned. Jones, his wife, my 
wife, and I went to Hampton Court and lost our- 


selves in the maze. I wish you had been one of 
the party, and so would Jones have wished, I know, 
as you are on his select list, which is not too large. 
Really I still believe you ought to come to London. 
At the end of the winter the Jones's and we mean 
to take a house together, if we can find one to our 

With kindest remembrances from both of us, 
I am, 

Yours affectionately, , 

D. G. Rossetti. 
What of your poem ? Do tell. 

Notes on XLI. 

Mrs. Dalrymple was sister of Mrs. Cameron, 
famous for her photography, and of Mrs. Prinsep 
(the mother of the Royal Academician). 

Patmore wrote to Allingham on November 25, 
1861 : — " The Victims of Love is the completion of 
Faithful for Ever, which was abandoned by me in 
an unfinished state when my wife's condition of 
health seemed quite hopeless. I hope you will not 
read it till it appears as part of the second and 
revised edition of Faithful for Ever, which will 
probably appear in the spring." 

In a letter in The Critic, October 27, i860, 
Ruskin wrote : — " The poem is, as I said, to the 
best of my belief, a finished and tender work of 
very noble art." To this the editor replied : — " If 


we be not very much mistaken, Mr. Ruskin said 
that he preferred Aurora Leigh to any poem since 
Milton. ... A re-perusal leads to the belief that 
the ' poem ' is about as jejune, puerile, and inartistic 
a piece of writing as it would be possible to produce." 
He goes on to quote "Mr. Patmore's never-to-be- 
forgotten couplet : — 

" ' A gentlewoman's twice as cheap, 
As well as pleasanter to keep.' " 

Rossetti, in the line which he incloses in quotation 
marks, applying it so humorously to Patmore's Angel 
in the House, parodies Tennyson's Love and Duty : — 

" Of love that-never found his earthly close, 
What sequel ? " 

Allingham, in a letter to Patmore dated March 29, 
1856, had told him that he was writing at too great 
length. The poet replied : — "You horrify me with 
your talk about pruning. The poem wants at least 
one third more to make it a complete statement of 
the matter." An amusing instance of his vanity is 
shown in the following passage in a letter he wrote 
to Allingham on September 12, 1855 : — " What do 
you think of the gratuitous slight put upon you and 
me in Kingsley's notice of Maud? I would not 
change Tamerton Church Tower [one of his own 
poems] nor, if I was the author of it, The Music 
Master for fifty Mauds." 


" One Gilchrist " was Alexander Gilchrist, author 
of Lives of Etty and Blake. " For him," writes 
Mr. W. M. Rossetti, "the feeling of Rossetti was 
one of genuine friendliness. He liked the writer 
and his writings, and had a high regard for his 
insight as a critic of art." Gilchrist's sudden death 
in the following November came as "a staggering 
blow " to his friend. When, a few months later, 
Rossetti lost his wife, he wrote to Mrs. Gilchrist : 
— " I feel forcibly the bond of misery which exists 
between us, and the unhappy right we have of 
saying to each other what we both know to be 
fruitless." He and his brother helped the widow 
to complete her husband's Life of Blake. 

The manuscript by Blake had been offered 
Rossetti in 1847 f° r ten shillings. " Dante's 
pockets," writes his brother, "were in their 
normal state of depletion, so he applied to me, 
urging that so brilliant an opportunity should not 
be let slip, and I produced the required coin. 
His ownership of this volume conduced to the 
Prseraphaelite movement ; for he found here the 
most outspoken (and no doubt, in a sense, the 
most irrational) epigrams and jeers against such 
painters as Correggio, Titian, Rubens, Rembrandt, 
Reynolds, and Gainsborough. These were balsam 
to Rossetti's soul, and grist to his mill. At the sale 
of his library the Blake manuscript sold for ^"1 10." 

Mr. W. M. Rossetti, describing to W. Allingham 
his trip to Italy, says : — " The Brownings were not 
at Florence, but at their summer haunts, the Villa 



Alberti, Marciano, near Sienna. Old Browning 
jolly and lovable beyond description, looking very 
healthy and alive ; Mrs. Browning moderately well." 

" Mr. Swinburne," writes Mr. W. M. Rossetti, 
"dedicated to Rossetti his first volume, The Queen 
Mother, and Rosamund. His brilliant intellect, his 
wide knowledge of poetry and astonishing memory 
in quotation, his enthusiasm for whatsoever he 
recognised as great, his fascinating audacity and 
pungency in talk, and the singular and ingenuous 
charm of his manner to any one whom he either 
liked or respected made him the most welcome of 
comrades to Rossetti." 

Rossetti wrote to " Shirley " in 1865 : — " You will 
find Swinburne's Atalanta a most noble thincr ■ 
never surpassed, to my thinking." 

Thomas Lovell Beddoes wrote to a friend from 
Pembroke College, Oxford, on June 8, 1825 : — 
" Oxford is the most indolent place on earth. I 
have fairly done nothing in the world but read a 
play or two of Schiller, /Eschylus, and Euripides. 
I am thinking of a very Gothic-styled tragedy, for 
which I have a jewel of a name — Death's Jest 
Book. Of course no one will ever read it." 



[November 22, i860.] 
My dear Allingham, 

I know I'm wrong to be nervous, but as 
your letter of the 13th talks of my MSS. coming 
back in a day or two (I have no copies besides), 
it looks as if something might have happened ; but 
no doubt, after all, it hasn't. 

I'm going to take the photograph with me as 
you direct the very first time I pass that way at 
any leisure, which is seldomer than would seem in 
the rational order of things ; but it shall soon 
reach you now. There are several questions in 
your letter which I'll proceed to answer. 

1. I have no copy of the letter of Ruskin's 
about Patmore in The Critic, or would have sent 
it you. 

2. Swinburne's volume is in print certainly, as I 
have one ; but I doubt if yet issued, or even all 
printed, as I believe he purposed some corrections. 
On second thoughts, I'll send you mine ; but please 
return it at earliest, as I haven't yet read the first 
play, and may get found out. He read it me 
in MS. 

3. I will enquire at Trtibner's forthwith about 
your Yankee edition. 


4. I suspect such an Opie as you describe 
cannot be worth much, but am not quite sure 
about it. Am much too ignorant to make a 

5. I never to my knowledge promised to get 
you a Tennyson portrait, and fear one is hardly 
get-at-able now ; as I have been trying myself to 
get one of the slouch-hatted ones (I have the 
other from Mrs. Cameron), but judge they are 
all distributed, as it does not turn up. I am 
having a 4 - vol. Tennyson of the Tauchnitz 
edition bound for my wife, and wanted to face 
the 4 titles with the 2 photos and Woolner's 
2 photo-portraits, but fear I shall be one short. 
Have you seen the Tauchnitz Tennyson? It 
contains all — even to the Idylls. 

By the bye, if you have one, I wish you would 
send me one of those photos of yourself, as 
we are hanging pictures in profusion about our 
rooms here, and would hang you, if we could 
get you. 

But mine seems lost (the one you gave long 
ago), as I can find it nowhere. If you haven't 
another to give, can one still be got at Bond 
Street ? 

About the Poems, I never meant, I believe, to 
print the Hymn (which was written merely to see if 
I could do Wesley, and copied, I believe, to enrage 


my friends) nor the Duke of Wellington. The 
Mirror I will sacrifice to you, and have no pre- 
judice myself in favour of Ave, but should be 
smothered by certain friends it has if it did not 
go in. Are your objections to it on poetic or 
dogmatic grounds ? and does Dennis Shand dis- 
please you for anything but its impropriety ? But 
perhaps I shall find my answers in the margins. 
The one of any length I most thought of omitting 
myself is the Portrait, which is rather spoon-meat ; 
but this, I see, you do not name, and perhaps 
I may leave it. My chief reason for including 
as much as I could would be to make the volume 
look as portly as may be from such a middle-aged 
novice. I would throw the Bride s Chamber over 
altogether if I could muster energy to supply an 
equal amount of new matter, but fear I shall have 
to finish it off somehow if I rush into print, as 
I almost think of doing now. 

Your accusation of the cause of my anxiety 
about your poem is a little bit of genuine ill- 
nature now, is it not, to scold a reader of yours 
as I am — eh, now ? 

I am sorry to learn that in all these years you 
have had no better specimen of London at Bally- 
shannon than Aubrey de Vere, who is surely one 
of the wateriest of the well - meaning. I wish 
Lizzie and I could turn up some time in your 


neighbourhood for a change, or see you here, if 
not there, till when and ever, 
I am and we are, 

Yours affectionately, 

D. G. Rossetti. 

P.S. — We have got one of our rooms completely 
hung round with Lizzie's drawings, which I should 
like to show you. 

Notes on XLII. 

" I believe I have this Hymn somewhere," Mr. 
W. M. Rossetti informs me. "It was never pub- 
lished. I can remember that some years after 
Rossetti's death it was produced to me as being 
his, and I pronounced it spurious ; but since then 
I have seen reason to alter my opinion. Welling- 
tons Funeral was finally published by him ; The 
Mirror, not by him, but by me, in the Collected 
Works." Dennis Shand, Mr. W. M. Rossetti 
describes as "a ballad of a rather light kind, 
not published." 

About The Portrait Rossetti wrote to his mother 
in 1873: "I remember that, for the family Hotch- 
Potch, long and long ago, I first wrote The Blessed 
Damozel, and also a poem about a portrait. Have 
you these ancient documents, and could you let 
me have the same if in my own handwriting ? " 
" The Hodgepodge" says Mr. W. M. Rossetti, 
"was a sort of manuscript family magazine, never 


passing beyond the range of the family circle, 
which was concocted during some months or 
weeks of 1847, or possibly 1846." 


[Postmark, November 29, i860.] 
My dear Allingham, 

The book comes safe. I've not yet had 
time to look well through your suggestions, but am 
glad to see there are fewest in the things done 
later. Some of the others I know can never be 
set quite right, but I dare say I shall find some 
help thereto in your notes. Would you tell me 
as regards Jenny (which I reckon the most serious 
thing I have written), whether there is any objec- 
tion you see in the treatment, or any side of the 
subject left untouched which ought to be included ? 
I really believe I shall print the things now, and 
see whether the magic presence of proof-sheets 
revives my muse sufficiently for a new poem or 
two to add to them. 

Indeed, and of course, my wife does draw still. 
Her last designs would, I am sure, surprise and 
delight you, and I hope she is going to do better 
than ever now. I feel surer every time she works 


that she has real genius — none -of your make- 
believe — in conception and colour, and if she can 
only add a little more of the precision in carrying 
out which it so much needs health and strength 
to attain, she will, I am sure, paint such pictures 
as no woman has painted yet. But it is no use 
hoping for too much. 

I quite agree with you in loathing Once a Week, 
illustrations and all. Meredith's novel, however, 
has very great merit of a wonderfully queer kind, 
I thought. Did you ? But through your poem 
(how long have such little commodities as 500- 
line poems been lying by with you?) I should 
like greatly to open a connection even with Once 
a Week, though it is only once a century that 
I feel disposed to "illustrate." (I had an applica- 
tion through Chapman, the other day, about doing 
Aurora Leigh all through [as I understood], but 
couldn't, though I should like to join with others, 
if feasible, for a block or two, for Browning's 

I wish you would let me know what the subject 
is in your poem. If modern, so much the better ; 
only, if Irish, I fear failing in character and truth. 
But I am not so despairingly dilatory quite now, I 
think, as I used to be in those famous old days, 
and might not perhaps turn your poem into a 
posthumous one. 


As for Swinburne's Plays, I don't think they will 
be to your liking. For my own part, I think he 
is much better suited to ballad-writing and such 
like, but there are real beauties in the plays too. 

I have been to-day to Triibner and asked 
for your book from America. They showed me 
Ticknor & Fields' last list, wherein it is not ; 
but said also that they were seeing Mr. Ticknor 
every day, and would enquire. I left them your 
address and my own, 

Yours affectionately, 

D. G. Rossetti. 

The Magdalene shall soon reach you. 

Notes on XLIII. 

On May 24, 1870, Rossetti wrote to his maiden 
aunt : — " I just hear from mamma, with a pang of 
remorse, that you have ordered a copy of my 
Poems. You may be sure I did not fail to think 
of you when I inscribed copies to friends and 
relatives ; but, to speak frankly, I was deterred 
from sending it to you by the fact of the book 
including one poem (Jenny) of which I felt un- 
certain whether you would be pleased with it. I 
am not ashamed of having written it (indeed, I 
assure you that I would never have written it 
if I thought it unfit to be read with good results), 
but I feared it might startle you somewhat. . . . 


My mother likes it, on the whole, the best in the 
volume, after some consideration." 

Mrs. Gilchrist, writing to Rossetti about his 
poems, after speaking of The Blessed Damozel, 
goes on to say of Jenny . — " There is another 
poem — other, indeed ! — which moves me even to 
anguish : one which comes upon a woman with 
appalling force after she has been standing gazing 
into the very Sanctuary of Love where woman- 
hood sits divinely enthroned. For she knows 
that if, looking up joyfully, the brightness shining 
on her also, she may say, ' my sister,' she must 
also, though shame should rise up and cover her, 
look down and say, ' O, my sister.' " 

Mr. George Meredith's novel in Once a Week 
was Evan Harrington. 

I cannot find any poem by Allingham in Once a 
Week about the time Rossetti wrote this letter. 


\_ January, 1861.] 
Dear Allingham, 

I hope you've had all the luck of the 
Season, and that it's to last all the year. I write 
this more specially to say that I sent off the Mag- 
dalene photograph some time back by Green, and 
that I hope it reached you safely. 


[To face page 251 


Lizzie is pretty well for her, and we are in expec- 
tation (but this is quite in confidence, as such things 
are better waited for quietly) of a little accident 
which has just befallen Topsy and Mrs. T. who 
have become parients [sic]. Ours however will not 
be (if at all) for 2 or 3 months yet. 

We have got our rooms quite jolly now. Our 
drawing-room is a beauty, I assure you, already, 
and on the first country trip we make we shall have 
it newly papered from a design of mine which I 
have an opportunity of getting made by a paper- 
manufacturer, somewhat as below. I shall have it 
printed on common brown packing-paper and on 
blue grocer's-paper, to try which is best. [Here 
follows, in the original letter, a design of the wall- 
paper. ] 

The trees are to stand the whole height of the 
room, so that the effect will be slighter and quieter 
than in the sketch, where the tops look too large. 
Of course they will be wholly conventional : the 
stems and fruit will be Venetian Red, the leaves 
black — the fruit, however, will have a line of yellow 
to indicate roundness and distinguish it from the 
stem ; the lines of the ground black, and the stars 
yellow with a white ring round them. The red and 
black will be made of the same key as the brown or 
blue of the ground, so that the effect of the whole 
will be rather sombre, but I think rich, also. When 


we get the paper up, we shall have the doors and 
wainscoting painted summer-house green. We got 
into the room in such a hurry that we had no time 
to do anything to the paper and painting, which had 
just been done by the landlord. I should like you 
to see how nice the rooms are looking, and how 
many nice things we have got in them. 

However you have yet to see a real wonder of 
the age — viz., Topsy's house, which baffles all de- 
scription now. 

We are organising (but this is quite under the 
rose as yet) a company for the production of furni- 
ture and decoration of all kinds, for the sale of 
which we are going to open an actual shop ! The 
men concerned are Madox Brown, Jones, Topsy, 
Webb (the architect of T.'s house), P. P. Marshall, 
Faulkner, and myself. Each of us is now pro- 
ducing, at his own charges, one or two (and some 
of us more) things towards the stock. We are not 

intending to compete with 's costly rubbish or 

anything of that sort, but to give real good taste at 
the price as far as possible of ordinary furniture. 
We expect to start in some shape about May or 
June, but not to go to any expense in premises at 

Here is the- last piece of news, and other there is 
none available I think. Description of pictures in 
hand is barren work. I am making use of your 


notes on my Poems and bettering some of them, I 
hope. I am now going to print all those written 
except the Bride s Chamber, and those you advised 
omitting. When printed, I shall see how much 
more is needed for a volume, and try to do it in the 
evenings, while the printed sheets wait, and then 
bring the book out. I am actually continuing the 
printing of the Translations now, and hope to get 
both books out together. 

What became of the Poem you meant to send to 
Once a Week ? Did you send it ? I have not 
seen the paper regularly, but should have nosed it 
out nevertheless, I fancy, if it had appeared. 

Write me as soon as you can, and believe me, 
with love from Lizzie and self, 

Your affectionate 

D. G. Rossetti. 

Notes on XLIV. 

" Our rooms " were the old quarters by Black- 
friars Bridge, somewhat enlarged. 

Mr. W. M. Rossetti, describing "the foundation 
of the decorative firm, which, known at first as 
' Morris, Marshall, Faulkner & Co.,' is now named 
' Morris & Company,' " continues : — " The Prse- 
raphaelite Brotherhood introduced into painting 
something that might well be called a revolution, 
and the firm introduced into decoration something- 
still more revolutionary for widespread and as yet 


permanent effect. The first suggestion for forming 
some such firm," adds Mr. Rossetti, " came from 
Mr. Peter Paul Marshall, an engineer, son-in-law of 
Mr. John Miller of Liverpool." However true this 
may be, nevertheless, as Mr. Arthur Hughes points 
out to me, the germs of it are to be found in ' ' the 
intensely mediaeval furniture " which Morris had 
made for his rooms in Red Lion Square, and in the 
cabinet which he, Rossetti, and Burne-Jones 
covered with pictures. A further development 
is seen in the decorations of Morris's house at 

Morris had of course to learn by experience. 
Mr. Hughes remembers a sofa designed by him, 
with a long bar beneath projecting six inches at 
each end, so that it tripped up some one who 
hastily went round it. Amid loud laughter each 
projection was at once shortened by three inches 
with a saw ; but even then there was danger to the 
passer-by. My study table was one of the earliest 
productions of the firm. Neither it nor an arm- 
chair which they made for me was such a thorough 
piece of workmanship as they would have produced 
later on. They were at first, as Faulkner told me, 
sometimes tricked by their men. How earnest 
Morris was in mastering every trade which he 
undertook the following anecdote shows. One day 
on my way to Oxford I fell in with him at Padding- 
ton and we travelled together. His hands were 
deeply stained with blue. He told me that he was 
working at a dyer's in the Midland Counties, as he 


meant to make carpets and hangings. What he 
had already learnt showed him that the usual pro- 
cesses were very imperfect. 

He used frequently to lunch at Faulkner's house 
in Queen's Square, coming- in the French blouse in 
which he worked from the business-place of the 
firm — " the shop " as they always called it — close 
by. Faulkner told me that the servant thought he 
was a butcher whom her master for some unaccount- 
able reason had to lunch. 


[Endorsed London, May 10, 1861.] 
My dear Allingham, 

I have had to thank several people for 
expressions of sympathy, but few can be so worthy 
of thanks as yours, which I well know to be sincere. 
My wife is progressing very well, all things con- 
sidered, and got over her confinement much better 
than we had ventured to hope. The child had been 
dead for 2 or 3 weeks before, and you may imagine 
that my forebodings were none of the brightest. 

I had delayed writing" to you for some time till I 
could send you my book — i.e., the Translations, 
which is now just finished printing, and will reach 
you in a few days I hope, if I can get at a copy ; 


but I must be chary of what I do till I know whether 
it is to be my own or a publisher's. However I 
trust to send one to you now, as I am anxious to 
have your advice in case of prolonged negotiations 
with publishers. I try Macmillan first, as he has 
been again expressing wishes about it, but am not 
very sanguine of him. For one thing, I have been 
obliged to introduce, in order to give a full view of 
the epoch of Poetry, some matter to which objec- 
tions may probably be raised ; but I should not 
have cared to do the work at all unless completely 
from a literary point of view. I have also had to 
put in a good deal of my own prose, and, as far as 
I know, there is nothing more which could be added 
to the book, which makes nearly 500 pages. 

It has interfered a good deal with my painting 
till lately, I am sorry to say. My own original 
Pomes (de Terre et de Ciel) must stand over as yet. 
But as I shall certainly not get the first book out 
till November, the second may possibly be ready 
too. I am going to do one, or perhaps two, etchings 
for the first. 

Now, there is a world of words about myself 
when I had to tell you about your work ; that is, 
Morley Park — which I read and found full of 
beauties, — best where most impassioned, as all 
poetry is and must be. The monologue of the 
deserted woman seemed to me most sustained in 


this respect — and you will say truly ought to be. 
In the rest I must say I found a certain degree of 
constraint in style — a rather wilful stiffness of ex- 
pression (of which the opening couplet affords as 
good an example as any), and I thought also too 
much dwelling here and there on minute objects in 
nature — particularly in the bridegroom's speech to 
the bride. I have it not by me, so am speaking 
from memory. Moreover, the speeches struck me 
sometimes as having rather too literary — or clever 
— a turn. I recall as an instance what the main 
speaker says to his returned friend about his grown- 
up sweetheart, towards the end. The work is quite 
yours, however, and really a work, and would har- 
monize much better with a volume of your poems 
than with Macmillan's Macademy of stones for 
bread. By the bye, I dare say you liked my sister's 
little pennyworths of wheat prominent among the 

The Academy is rather seedy, only has a refresh- 
ing look through being more fairly hung than usual. 
Leighton might, as you say, have made a burst had 
his pictures not been very ill placed mostly — indeed 
one of them (the only very good one, Lieder ohne 
Worte) is the only instance of very striking unfair- 
ness in the place. Hughes has got a good place, 
and looks very well indeed with a picture of a 
Laborer's return to his family. Hook's pictures are 


among the best, but one seems to have seen them 
before. Hunt's Lanthorn maker may be really the 
best picture there, spite of several decided short- 
comings. Watts has two very good portraits (or 
more like pictures), one of Alice Prinsep. Mrs. 
Wells (Boyce's sister) has some first-rate things, 
and her husband (who has been driven from minia- 
ture to oil by the progress of photography) is not 
far behind her. There is a Scotchman named 
Archer, who has a picture I like as well as anything 
of a lady " Playing at Queen," with her quaint chil- 
dren holding her train and trotting after. But 
really there is not a single work of importance in 
the place which belongs to quite the first rank. 

Pardon great hurry in this letter which is written 
before breakfast, and believe me (with love from 

Your affectionate 

D. G. Rossetti. 

I will give your love to and wife. They 

have a nice pretty elder sister of Mrs. 's in 

town. There might be a chance for you ! ! Only a 
little elder ! ! ! 

Notes on XLV. 

On April 20, 1861, Rossetti had written to 
Alexander Gilchrist : — " My great anxiety about 

(From a tracing of a sketch by Dante Gabriel Rossetti.) 

[To face page 259. 


my wife lasts still. She has too much courage to 
be in the least downcast herself." 

On October 3, 1862, Mrs. Gilchrist, writing to 
Mr. W. M. Rossetti about the republication of 
Blake's Daughters of Albion says : — " It was no use 
to put in what I was perfectly certain Macmillan 
(who reads all the proofs) would take out again. 
He is far more inexorable against any shade of 
heterodoxy in morals than in religion." 

The title of Morley Park was changed first into 
Southwell Park, and finally into Bridegroom 's Park. 
It is included in a volume called Life and Phantasy 
in the last edition of Allingham's works. The open- 
ing couplet is as follows : — 

" Friend Edward, from this turn remark 
The sweep of woodland. Bridegroom's Park 
We call it." 

" ' My sister's little pennyworths of wheat ' " (Mr. 
W. M. Rossetti tells me) "were poems by Christina 
in Macmillan s Magazine. One of them (the first) 
was Up- Hill, now of considerable celebrity." 

It was in Cairo, Mr. Holman Hunt tells us, that 
he began " the little picture called The Lantern 
Makers Courtship. It was of an incident I saw in 
the bazaar." Madox Brown recorded on July 28, 
1856: — "Saw Hunt's Lantern Maker, which is 
lovely in colour and one of the best he has painted, 
but like much he has done of late, very quaint in 
drawing and composition, but admirably painted." 

Mrs. Wells died in the summer of this year. 


"She was," writes Mr. W. M. Rossetti, "a painter 
of exceptional talent, from which my brother and 
many more hoped much. He took a portrait of her 
as she lay in death." 

J. Archer's picture was Playing at a Queen with a 
Painters Wardrobe. 


Monday [summer of 1861 ]. 
My dear Allingham, 

I am sending you by book post with this 
a sewed copy of my book. I have only just got 
a few, and do not offer it you en permanence in this 
state, as I am going to make an etching, or perhaps 
two, for it, and there is another index to come at 
the end, but had 6 copies sent me now to use in 
getting a publisher, etc. My first offer of it will 
be to Macmillan, with whom I have had some talk. 
What I want chiefly to get rid of is the printer's 
bill, but I am led to think by some friends that I 
ought to expect something in money also. What 
think you ? Will you tell me, and say all you have 
time to say in the way of criticism ? Cancels are 
still possible. There are 5 cancel leaves already in 
the book (chiefly on score of decorum !), which you 
will notice by their being in the rough as yet. 


My wife progresses well, I am glad to tell you. 
With her love to you, 

I am, yours affectionately, 

D. G. R. 

Notes on XLVI. 

" My Book" was The Early Italian Poets, now 
called Dante and his Circle. No etchings were 
included in it, though one was made, now in Mr. 
Fairfax Murray's collection. Macmillan did not 
publish the work, but Smith and Elder. 

For the "something in money" which his friends 
led him to think he ought to expect he had to wait 
eight years. By 1869, about six hundred copies 
having been sold, he received, Mr. W. M. Rossetti 
says, "a minute dole of less than nine pounds." 


[Near the end of 1862. J 
My dear Allingham, 

. . . You will remember my troubling 
you once or twice about that Bogie poem book of 
Wilkinson's. I am wanting it now to mention ■ in 
a passage on Blake's poetry which I am writing for 
the Life never quite completed. Could you kindly 


let me have the loan of yours as soon as you 
can. . . . 

Yours affectionately, 

D. G. Rossetti. 

Notes on XLVII. 

"That Bogie poem" was Improvisations from 
the Spirit, by Dr. J. Garth Wilkinson, the homceo- 
pathist who was Miss Siddal's physician in 1854. 
Hawthorne, whose children he attended in Decerh- 
ber, 1857, wrote of him: — " He is a homceopathist, 
and is known in scientific or general literature ; at 
all events, a sensible and enlightened man, with an 
un-English freedom of mind on some points. For 
example, he is a Swedenborgian and a believer in 
modern spiritualism. He showed me some draw- 
ings that had been made under the spiritual in- 
fluence by a miniature-painter who possesses no 
imaginative power of his own, and is merely a good 
mechanical and literal copyist ; but these drawings, 
representing angels and allegorical people, were 
done by an influence which directed the artist's 
hand, he not knowing what his next touch would 
be, nor what the final result." Hawthorne con- 
cludes : " This matter of spiritualism is surely 
the strangest that ever was heard of; and yet I 
feel unaccountably little interest in it — a sluggish 
distrust and repugnance to meddle with it — inso- 
much that I hardly feel as if it were worth this 
page or two in my not very eventful journal." It 


does not appear that the doctor ever compounded 
his draughts and his pills under spiritual influence, 
though it seems hard that his patients should not 
have had the benefit of this supernatural aid. 

Rossetti thus described this "bogy book" in the 
supplementary chapter he wrote for Gilchrist's Life 
of Blake : — " A very singular example of the closest 
and most absolute resemblance to Blake's poetry 
may be met with (if only one could meet with it) 
in a phantasmal sort of little book, published, or 
perhaps not published but only printed, some years 
since, and entitled, Improvisations of the Spirit. It 
bears no author's name, but was written by Dr. 
J. Garth Wilkinson, the highly-gifted editor of 
Swedenborg's writings, and author of a Life of 
him, to whom we owe a reprint of the poems in 
Blake's Songs of Innocence and Experience. These 
improvisations profess to be written under precisely 
the same kind of spiritual guidance, amounting to 
abnegation of personal effort in the writer, which 
Blake supposed to have presided over the pro- 
duction of his Jerusalem, &c. The little book has 
passed into the general (and in all other cases 
richly-deserved) limbo of the modern ' spiritualist ' 
muse. It is a very thick little book, however un- 
substantial its origin ; and contains, amid much 
that is disjointed or hopelessly obscure (but then, 
why be the polisher of poems for which a ghost, 
and not even your own ghost, is alone responsible ?) 
many passages and indeed whole compositions of 
a remote and charming beauty, or sometimes of a 


grotesque figurative relation to things of another 
sphere, which are startlingly akin to Blake's 
writings — could pass in fact for no one's but his. 
Professing as they do the same new kind of author- 
ship, they might afford plenty of material for com- 
parison and bewildered speculation, if such were 
in any request." 

Dr. Wilkinson in a note at the end of his Im- 
provisations says : — " Suffice it to say that every 
piece was produced without premeditation or pre- 
conception : had these processes stolen in, such 
production would have been impossible. The pro 
duction was attended by no feeling and by no 
fervour, but only by an anxiety of all the circum- 
stant faculties to observe the unlooked-for evolution 
and to know what would come of it." 

According to W. B. Scott, " Emerson said 
' Wilkinson was most like Bacon of all men 
living.'" Scott adds that "Wilkinson was as tall 
and as straight as a spear, and looked steadily at 
you from behind his spectacles as if he saw your 
thoughts as distinctly as your nose, while Tenny- 
son cared little and noted little of either." 

Rossetti had helped Mr. Gilchrist in editing 
Blake's poems. He wrote to him : — " I am glad 
you approve of my rather unceremonious shaking 
up of Blake's rhymes [i.e., the correction of Blake's 
grammar]. I really believe that is what ought to 
be done." Later on Mr. W. M. Rossetti was 
reproached with these emendations. His brother 
wrote to him on October 8, 1874 : — " I know you 


would not quite have coincided with my method 
of treatment, nor should I now have adopted it 
to the same extent." Mr. W. M. Rossetti in a 
letter to Allingham about a proposed edition of 
Shelley, after speaking of " Shelley's mixing up 
you and thou in dialogue," continued : — " Gabriel 
said, ' Make everything uniform ; ' but I have not 
the remotest idea of doing that." 


16, Cheyne Walk, Chelsea, 

Tuesday [1863 J. 
My dear Allingham, 

My friend Taylor (of H.M. Theatre) 
writes me that he will reserve for me his two pit 
tickets for Mirella to-night (being unable to get 
better places for a new attraction). I shall not 
be able to go myself, but I write him word with 
this that you perhaps may, alone or with a friend. 
If you can go, ask any official about the place for 
Mr. Taylor, and he will do the needful. You need 
not think there is any awkwardness about it, as 
my plan with him, at his own request, has always 
been to send friends if I wished, instead of going 
myself ? 


When am I to see you again ? I shall be going 
on Friday to Hughes's with Madox Brown and 
Ned Jones. They are to be here at 6, and I hope 
dine with me before going. Will you do the same, 
if you like to go on to Hughes's ? 

Yours affectionately, 

D. Gabriel R. 

Notes ox XLVIII. 

Warrington Taylor, Mr. W. M. Rossetti tells 
me, was a man of good family who had come down 
in the world and was a check-taker at the Opera. 
He had a great love of music and art. Rossetti 
got for him the post of book-keeper in the firm of 
Morris & Co., where he did very well, having a 
good head for figures. Within four years after 
receiving the appointment he died of consumption. 

Mirella or Mireille was an opera by Gounod. 
According to Mr. Holman Hunt, "Rossetti regarded 
music as positively offensive." Mr. W. M. Rossetti 
tells me that while his brother would never have 
willingly listened to an oratorio, or indeed to any 
music of that kind which Dr. Johnson, when he 
was told that it was very difficult, wished were 
impossible, nevertheless he was fond of the opera. 
He would moreover listen with pleasure to the 
singing of a simple ballad. 



Augiist, 1863, 
16 Cheyne Walk, Chelsea. 
My dear Allingham, 

I have been meaning to write any day 
since last seeing you, though in truth without much 
to say, but I am anxious to hear in return how you 
get on in your new quarters. I have not been out 
of London since seeing you, except for a couple 
of clays to Brighton ; and indeed, though I have 
earned this year more than any previous one, I 
seem never to have a penny wherewith to run 
away for a little, like other people. Perhaps I 
may yet, though, in another month, and who knows 
but I may see Venice ? But I suppose it will not 

Have you seen a new volume of poems by one 
Jean Ingelow? Really there seems a good deal 
in it. 

This house goes on getting more settled, and I 
more restless. I do not know where it will take 
me to and how soon. I see hardly any one. 
Swinburne is away. Meredith has evaporated for 
good, and my brother is seldom here. There is 
only one more to unite with me in good wishes to 

I would begin another sheet, however, but for 


the little to say. So to make something I will 
direct your attention to the headings of these 
sheets, which are a combined effort of self as 
designer and Knewstub's (my pupil's) brother's 
firm as executants — he insisting on making me a 
present of a small stack of paper headed in various 
colours, which stuff up every drawer in my studio, 
and will last half my lifetime — or indeed perhaps 
head the news of my death when that occurs, before 
the black-edged paper has arrived. The above 
morbidity reminds me of the green bogie book, 
which you know you promised to send up when 
it came to hand. 

You are somewhere near the New Forest, are 
you not? Or is this, as highly probably, a topo- 
graphical bull which is opening your eyes and 
mouth at this moment. If so, it is only one of a 
large family of mine. But if you are near there, 
I really ain't sure that I sha'n't come and see you, 
and walk about for a day or two, if you can. Could 
you, supposing such a case ? I am awfully done up 
for want of a change of some sort. 

By the bye, Ned Jones said he should be in your 
neighbourhood before long, and should look you up. 
He is a dear old chap, and said much at same time 
which I was glad he should say, both for your and 
his sake. 

Have you seen the blue book on the Royal 


Academy — and would you like to see it ? If so, I 
will send it you as a good cupboard skeleton in 
return for your bogies. There is abundance of 
rotten and decayed matter shovelled up in it, with 
much overfed sweltering thereby engendered, 
gorged creatures and starved anatomies, with some 
will-o'-the-wisps and the ghosts of various reputa- 
tions. The only evidence of the lot which is worth 
reading as original thought and insight is Ruskin's. 
Him I saw the other day, and pitched into, he 
talked such awful rubbish ; but he is a dear old 
chap, too, and as soon as he was gone I wrote my 
sorrows to him. Browning was here at same time, 
very jolly indeed, and stayed and walked many 
times round the room, and many times stood still, 
with his hands in his pockets and his eyes wide 

My love to you, and believe me ever yours 

D. G. Rossetti. 

Would you like me to send to you Blake's Life? 
Not out yet, but I have one in sheets. 

Notes on XLIX. 

Rossetti lost his wife on February 11, 1862. 
He had no heart to go on living in his old home 
by Blackfriars Bridge, and removed up the river 
to Chelsea. There he took a large house, in which 


his brother, Mr. Swinburne, and Mr. George 
Meredith were to have rooms, as sub- tenants. 

That he should never have seen Venice, that he 
who was a Florentine of the Florentines should 
never have passed a single day in Florence, seems 
strange indeed. To borrow the words Mr. Holman 
Hunt used of him, he held that "people had no 
right to be different from the people of Dante's 
time." He cared for none of the discoveries of 
modern science. " What could it matter," he said, 
" whether the earth moved round the sun, or the 
sun travelled round the earth ? " Why, with the 
large income that he was making, he seemed 
"never to have a penny wherewith to run away," 
why he never saw Venice, was due to his reckless 
expenditure. " Money," writes Mr. W. M. Rossetti, 
"dripped from my brother's fingers in all sorts of 
ways, unforecast at the time, and not always easily 
accounted for afterwards." Of this "dripping" an 
instance is given in the following passage in his 
letter to his brother, dated April 23, 1864 : " I have 
seen the owner of the zebu, and undertaken to buy 
him for ^20, — £5 payable on Monday, and the 
rest within a fortnight. I shall then have plenty, 
but just now have none. Could you pay your ,£5 
as the first installment ? " The zebu was a small 
Brahmin bull, who chased his new master round a 
tree, and was at once resold. 

Of Jean Ingelow's new volume of poems Matthew 
Arnold wrote : — " She seemed to me to be quite 
' above the common,' but I have not read enough 


of her to say more. It is a great deal to give one 
true feeling in poetry, and I think she seemed to 
be able to do that ; but I do not at present very 
much care for poetry unless it can give me true 
thought as well. It is the alliance of these two 
that makes great poetry, the only poetry really 
worth very much." 

"The headings of these sheets" are thus described 
by Mr. W. M. Rossetti: "My father owned a 
largish seal marked with a cross, — a tree having 
the motto ' Frangas non flectas,' — and he said this 
was regarded as his crest. Mr. Knewstub, my 
brother's art assistant, who was connected with the 
firm of Jenner & Knewstub, got that firm to pre- 
sent to Gabriel a die with the crest and a mono- 

Allingham was living at Lymington, a little south 
of the New Forest, and over against the Isle of 

The Blue Book was The Report of the Commis- 
sioners appointed to inquire into the Present Position 
of the Royal Academy in Relation to the Fine Arts. 

"Mr. Ruskin," writes Mr. W. M. Rossetti, "took 
keen delight in Rossetti's paintings and designs. 
He praised freely and abused heartily both him and 
them. The abuse was good-humoured and was 
taken good-humouredly. . . . They took in good 
part, with mutual banter and amusement, whatever 
was deficient or excessive in the performance of 
the painter or in the comments of the purchaser 
and critic." Rossetti wrote to Madox Brown on 


January 19, 1873: — "I do not call John Ruskin's 
work criticism, but rather brilliant poetic rhapsody." 


16, Cheyne Walk, Chelsea. 

[23rd Sept., 1863.] 
My dear Allingham, 

My serious thoughts of coming to you 
have come to nothing as yet, as I need not tell you. 
The fact is, while I was still revolving the idea, but 
almost too seedy to move at all, William dropped 
in with a request that I would accompany him to 
Belgium for a week. Finding that all was ready 
for this start on his part, which half helped me to 
be so too, and remembering that the other depended 
all on myself, and so was more problematical, I was 
induced to go with him, to very moderate results 
as regards enjoyment, but still to some benefit in 
that way as well as in health ; though having come 
back to finish the very nauseous job I ran away 
from — viz., some copies, only doing for filthy lucre's 
sake from some things of my own — I feel already 
quite as bad again as before I went. But whether 
I shall have the chance of another trip I am far 
from sure. If I should see you, after all, it will, I 


know, be with true pleasure ; but the year is getting 
late and the dun is at the door. Moreover, I make 
no doubt of reviving when I get to more likeable 
work, and being tolerably well rooted to it. 

But present or absent believe me always, 

Truly your friend, 

D. G. Rossetti. 

A man asked me the other day if I would do 
Blake for the Westminster. I said, no ; but 
ventured to name you as possible. Would you, 
if I hear more ? 


16, Cheyne Walk, Chelsea. 

Saturday [probably 1 863]. 
Dear Allingham, 

If fine, I expect to start for Lymington 
on Monday at 5.10 p.m. This intention however 
renders rain so probable that it is not certain you 
will see me then after all, as in case of bad weather 
looking likely to last I should put off coming till it 
was finer. 

Ever yours D. G. Rossetti. 
P.S. — However, on the whole I expect to come, 
and if not will telegraph. 




[Christmas, 1865. J 
My dear Allingham, 

Several months ago I got a good letter 
of yours asking me to come and see you. This 
had been uppermost in my mind to do, had I found 
myself able to do anything of the sort, even before 
getting your letter. However, it seemed quite 
hopeless already at the time of your writing, and 
proved more and more so afterwards. Yet I for- 
bore answering No, in the hope of Yes for some 
time. Now on Christmas Eve No seems the word 
and no mistake. I have not had a single day out 
of London this year except once to Greenwich with 
Boyce, and once walking to Tottenham. For all 
that I've not done half I meant to do. Now the 
only thing left is to wish you all luck next year, 
and myself the luck of coming to see you then. 

I heard of your being in town but for a flying 
visit, in which I am sorry you did not find time to 
look me up. However, if I scramble once more 
through the fogs and duns of a London Christmas, 
I'll hope to meet you again yet. 

Worse, however, than not having yet thanked 
you for a pleasure offered is my omission to do so 
for one actually bestowed and enjoyed ; namely, the 
gift of your Fifty Poems. I remember they fared 


well with me, for I read them one evening right 
through when I felt much in want of other voices 
than plaguey ones from inside and outside ; and I 
found them full of good words and true. Every 
one is a study — not work thrown away, or no-work 
shovelled together ; those new to me were to the 
full as good as the old ones, and many of the old 
gained greatly on reacquaintance. So here come 
my late but real thanks to you. 

Ever affectionately yours, 

D. G. Rossetti. 

Notes on LI I. 

Rossetti wrote to his uncle on November 15th of 
this year : — " Referring to my diary, I find there 
have been only twelve days during the five months 
ending with the close of October which have not 
been spent by me in work at my easel. I have 
completely missed all exercise and change of air 
this year, yet have no reason to complain as regards 

On October 1st of the same year Madox Brown 
recorded : — " Walked to Tottenham with P. P. 
Marshall and Rossetti." Mr. Marshall lived at 
Tottenham, where he has left a memorial of his art 
in the small building above a well near the High 
Cross. The village — for a village it still was 
■ — was also the home of two men who bought 


Prseraphaelite pictures, Colonel Gillum and Mr. 

Allingham wrote to Mr. W. M. Rossetti on 
March 19, 1865 : — "My volume of Fifty Modern 
Poems is just coming out. Most of the pieces have 
been in magazines, etc. The whole is to myself 
already a thing of the past and not very interesting. 
I am occupied with other ideas. One quality the 
book has (implied in ' Modern '), — it is in harmony 
with the best minds of our day as to religion, 
being at once reverent and anti-dogmatic." 


16, Cheyne Walk, Chelsea, 

[Nov. 8, 1866]. 
My dear Allingham, 

Herewith I send you a set of the photos, 
hitherto made from Lizzie's sketches — many mere 
scraps, .but all interesting. I shall have the water- 
colours photo'd in due course, but this is a trouble- 
some job, as a first negative will be necessary, then 
a touched proof, and then a second negative, or 
the effect will be all false. I shall also print des- 
criptions of each design. Room is left in the port- 
folio I think to contain these additions when ready. 
One of these days I hope to see you at home. I 


was obliged to run away from the gallery on Satur- 
day last, as I had an appointment to catch a train. 
Your affectionately 

D. G. Rossetti. 

Note on LI 1 1. 

Mr. W. M. Rossetti tells me that these descrip- 
tions of Mrs. Rossetti's designs were never printed. 


22 March, [1867J. 
My dear Allingham, 

I inclose an answer to Aide\ which will 
tell you my mind, except that I may add to you 
that ^1400 is ^1400 to me, or rather to any 
body rather than me as I never see it at all, and 
that my plan is to rent, not to buy. I have 
been pot-boiling to an extent lately that does 
not hold out much hope of estate buying or even 
renting. Moreover, as I haven't been outside my 
door for months in the daytime, I shouldn't have 
had much opportunity of enjoying pastime and 
pleasances. I have accordingly no news whatever, 
except of my easel, which is too mean a slave to 
small needs to be worth reporting on. I do not see 


a fellow of any sort really much oftener than you 
do, I imagine. 

I lately heard from Aubrey de Vere, with a re- 
quest to my sister and self to contribute something 
to a verse collection. We looked up scraps, and 
were promised proofs, but these come not ; and I 
imagine that the result when in type will be the 
usual incentive to blasphemy. I wonder do you 
sail in the same boat — or "funny," as it is likely to 
prove according to my experience. 
Yours always, 

D. G. Rossetti. 

Notes on LIV. 

There should have been no need for " pot-boil- 
ing." In this year Rossetti made "little or not at 
all less than ^3000." 

His habit of not going outside his door in the 
daytime is thus accounted for by his brother : " He 
rose late ; painted all day, as long as light served 
him ; then dined ; and whether winter or summer, 
all was darkness, tempered by gaslight or moon- 
light, by the hour he left the house." 

Mr. Aubrey de Vere could not have completed 
this "verse collection." In 1893 he published The 
Household Poetry Book, but it contains nothing 
by Rossetti or his sister. 

A " funny " is the name given to a boat so frail 
that it oversets very easily. 



Monday, \September 30, 1867 J. 
My dear Allingham, 

Do by all means come up — not for a day, 
but for as long as you can. I am most wishful to 
return with you for another spell of country air 
and exercise, but must tell you that since returning 
to town I have found the confusion in my head and 
the strain on my eyes in working decidedly rather 
on the increase than otherwise, and am getting 
really anxious about it. I mention this quite in 
confidence, as it w d - be injurious to me if it got 
about. The only 2 to whom I have named it are 
Brown and Howell, and I do not mean to say 
more about it. To-morrow I shall finish a draw- 
ing I have been at work on, and on Wednesday 
shall probably go to Bowman, the oculist. I must 
take his advice about going away, but am rather 
under the impression at present that the light 
rooms and sunlight outside at Lymington did me 
more harm than good. I saw Howell yesterday, 
who is prepared to come to Lymington if I do. It 
would give me much pleasure indeed to see you 
here if you can come, so do at once. 
Yours ever, 

D. Gabriel R. 


Notes on LV. 

" About this time Rossetti's eyesight began to 
fail. Sunlight or artificial light became increas- 
ingly painful to him, producing sensations of giddi- 

Howell had been Ruskin's secretary. Later on 
he was employed by Rossetti " to transact the sale 
of uncommissioned work. As a salesman he was 


Thursday \October 10, 1867]. 
In case I don't see you to-day I write word that, 
as I expected you to-day, blokes are coming to- 
morrow to meet you at dinner at 7. 

I went to Bowman, who gave me the information 
that if it didn't get better it might get worse. 

Your D. G. R. 

Notes on LVI. 

Rossetti wrote to Brown in 1861 : — " Dear 
Brown, a few blokes and coves are coming at 8 or 
so on Friday evening to participate in oysters and 

He makes the following mention of the famous 


oculist, Sir William Bowman, in a letter to his 
mother nearly two years later : — " I suppose I told 
you of my seeing Bowman before I left London, 
and that instead of taking a guinea fee (which 
he refused) he proposes to pay me one hundred and 
fifty for a little water-colour." 


16, Cheyne Walk, 

28 Atigust, 1868. 
My dear Allingham, 

I've been very seedy, and still am rather 
so, but doctors have been doing me some good. 

I'm going to start away somewhere, but fancy 
seaside. There's a deadly-lively or very quiet 
place called Southwold, in Suffolk, where the 
Morris's, Howells, and others have been lately, 
and I think perhaps of going there. I don't know 
exactly what my moves may be ; but would it be 
in the nature of things for you to take a trip with 
me anywhere at present ? I think we rather used 
up the walks about Lymington last year, and 
seaside is desirable, and certainly no impending 
female photographers or even poets laureate. 

I merely ask you the question as a guide in my 


plans. We might go to several places even — say 
including a new visit to Stratford-on-Avon and 
neighbourhood, which will bear seeing often. 

Will you kindly answer at once, as I ought to 
start at once. 

Your affect., 

D. Gabriel R. 

Notes on LVII. 

" The terrible affliction of sleeplessness," writes 
Mr. W. M. Rossetti, "which was the origin of all 
the breaking-up of my brother's health, had already 
been going on some while before the autumn of 
1868." He paid the visit to Stratford-on-Avon in 
September, and later on in the month he went to 
Penkill Castle, Ayrshire, where he stayed some 

" The line about ' impending female photo- 
graphers or even poets laureate ' refers," Mr. W. 
M. Rossetti tells me, "to Tennyson at Freshwater, 
in the Isle of Wight, and to his near neighbour, 
Mrs. Cameron, a lady of good position and a very 
cordial friend of Rossetti. She had taken to 
photographing, and produced many remarkable 
things of broad pictorial effect." 



Wednesday [Christmas, 1868]. 

My dear Allingham, 

Many are Xmas nuisances, and here comes 
another — accompanied, however, by all affectionate 

I have been looking up a few old Sonnets, and 
writing a few new ones, to make a little bunch in 
a coming number of the Fortnightly— not till 
March, however, as they are full till then. 

Among them are the enclosed two, about which 
I want an opinion. It seems to me doubtful 
whether the 2nd adds anything of much value to 
the first, and whether it (the 2nd) is not in itself 
rather far-fetched and obscure. I wish you would 
tell me what you think. I would excise the 2nd if 
the first is best by itself. 

I suppose you heard that I have been queer with 
my eyes — this has caused inaction and the looking 
up of ravelled rags of verse. I am now at work 
again, however. 

Affectionately yours, 

D. G. Rossetti. 

P.S. — Isn't there a chance of your coming up 
this Xmas ? Come and stay with me. 

P. P.S. — How do you like the Ring and the 


Book ? It is full of wonderful work, but it seems 
to me that, whereas other poets are the more liable 
to get incoherent the more fanciful their starting- 
point happens to be, the thing that makes 
Browning drunk is to give him a dram of prosaic 
reality, and unluckily this time the "gum-tickler" 
is less like pure Cognac than 7 Dials gin. Whether 
the consequent evolutions will be bearable to their 
proposed extent without the intervening walls of 
the station-house to tone down their exuberance 
may be dubious. This entre nous. 

Notes on LVIII. 

Rossetti describes these sonnets in a letter to his 
mother, which begins : — " I send you my sonnets, 
which are such a lively band of bogies that they 
may join with the skeletons of Christina's various 
closets and entertain you with a ballet." 

Mrs. Gilchrist wrote to a friend : — " I dined with 
the Rossettis on Thursday [April 19, 1869]. 
Gabriel Rossetti told a good story, which Carlyle, 
I believe, tells of himself — how he met Browning 
and meant to say something to please about The 
Ring and the Book, but somehow ultimately found 
himself landed in the reverse of a compliment : — 
' It is a wonderful book, one of the most wonderful 
poems ever written. I re-read it all through — all 
made out of an Old Bailey story that might have 
been told in ten lines, and only wants forgetting.' 


G. D. R. seemed himself to lean a little to this 
view, and to think there was perversity in the 
choice of the subject, though of course redeemed 
by superb treatment." 


16, Cheyne Walk, Chelsea. 

21 February, 1870. 
My dear Allingham, 

As you expressed a willingness for a little 
more scratching and sifting at my poetic diggings, 
I trouble you on a rather abject dilemma regard- 
ing a very old piece of work, — Sister Helen, 
enclosed. The family name used in it was 
originally " Keith." This I altered because of 
Dobell's ballad, Keith of Ravelston which bears 
also on faithless love and supernaturalism. (I 
may add, however, that D.'s ballad was never 
published till some years after mine had been 
originally in print, but still I hate coincidences of 
the kind.) This I have changed to " Holm," 
which is objected to now, from / think a quarter 
worth considering, as not being a well-sounding 
territorial name. My reason for asking you about 
it is that (the Boyne being mentioned in the 


poem) an Irish name might perhaps do best. 
Would "Neill" do? — and would it fit in with 
"Eastholm," "Westholm," and "Neill of Neill"? 
Would you give me a hint or a suggestion of 
some better name or system of nomenclature, if 
such occurs to you? The father being "of that 
ilk " should stand, I think, as elucidatory. I write 
in great hurry, as I am trying to get the thing off 
for a new revise, and should be much obliged, 
therefore, if you could answer my question without 

I suppose you saw the evidently personal on- 
slaught on William's Shelley in the Athenceum, — 
by Buchanan, I believe. I suppose I may expect 
to fare likewise, if nothing interferes. 

Ever yours, 

D. G. Rossetti. 

Notes on LIX. 

Rossetti, writing on January 3, 1854, "says that 
he had consigned the ballad of Sister Helen to 
Mrs. Howitt, ' for an English edition of a German 
something or other, which will be coming out now.' 
This German publication was named The Diisseldorf 
Annual. The ballad appeared in it, without the 
author's name, but only with the initials ' H. H. H.' 

Of Keith of Ravelston Rossetti wrote in 1 868 : — 


" I have always regarded that poem as being one 
of the finest, of its length, in any modern poet ; 
ranking with Keats's La Belle Dame sans Merci, 
and the other masterpieces of the condensed and 
hinted order so dear to imaginative minds." Of 
Dobell's poem the following is the first stanza : — 

" The murmur of the mourning ghost 
That keeps the shadowy kine, 
O Keith of Ravelston, 
The sorrows of thy line." 

In 1866, Mr. Buchanan, in a burlesque poem, had 
made " a gratuitous and insolent attack upon Mr. 
Swinburne." Mr. W. M. Rossetti, in a review of 
Swinburne's poems, retaliated by saying that " the 
advent of so poor and pretentious a poetaster as 
Robert Buchanan stirs storms in teapots." Mr. 
Buchanan replied by his "personal onslaught" on 
Mr. W. M. Rossetti's edition of Shelley, which he 
followed up a little later by a severe review of 
Dante Rossetti's Poems. This he enlarged and 
published under the title of The Fleshy School of 
Poetry and other Phenomena of the Day. " I 
have," writes Mr. W. M. Rossetti, "more than 
once been told by friends that the animus against 
my brother apparent in the article should be 
regarded as a vicarious expression of resentment 
at something which I myself had written." On 
Dante Rossetti, who was already in a nervous state 
of health, Mr. Buchanan's attack had a disastrous 


effect. "He was a changed man, and so con- 
tinued till the close of his life." 

I venture to quote, without first obtaining Mr. 
W. M. Rossetti's leave, the following passage from 
a letter in which he informs Allingham of the 
proposal made to him that he should edit Shelley: 
" Is it not a glorious chance, this Shelley editing 
and biographizing? Willingly would I not only 
be doing it for pay, but do it for nothing, or pay 
to do it." 


28 February, 1870. 
Dear Allingham, 

Thanks for attending so promptly to my 
bewilderments. I have adopted Weir, which seems 
to answer well. Kerr has not emphasis enough 
— runs too much off the tongue — for the poise of 
the verse. 

As for that kind, good, overwhelming Lady A., 
she has written to me from at least 6 different 
parts of the British Islands during the past- year, 
asking me to come down instantly and meet a 
sympathising circle. But such things are quite 
impossible to me at the pitch of brutal bogyism 
at which I have arrived. You seem somehow to 


keep your own man, but I am hardly my own 
ghost. I saw Ned the other evening, and he 
seemed well on the whole, though rather colly- 
wobblyish. I shall get into the country somewhere 
— where,' I don't yet know — within a few days and 
for a few weeks, to try if there is any marrow left 
in me that can be squeezed out in the form of 
rhyme before I go finally to press. I mean to 
be out in April — latter end, I suppose, — and should 
like a few more pages if possible. I want to get 
near three hundred if I can, but have been 
obliged to give up the idea of finishing several 
things I had in hand for the purpose ; and for all 
that, having done no work to speak of in painting, 
with this divided mind. I must cart the things 
off now, and then get to my easel again. 

Ever yours, 

D. G. Rossetti. 

Christina has done a book of Nursery Rhymes, 
and is publishing with Ellis, who offers her much 
better terms than Mac. [Macmillan] does. She 
will leave Mac. altogether. 

Notes on LX. 

" Lady A." was, I conjecture, Lady Ashburton. 
Rossetti wrote to his aunt in 1874: — "Lady A. 



[Ashburton] spoke of you in a friendly, even an 
affectionate way." 

Far and wide as Dr. Murray has cast his nets for 
the great Oxford English Dictionary he has not 
caught collywobblyish. 


scalands, robertsbridge, 

Hawkhurst, Kent 
[March 7, 1870J. 
Dear Allingham, 

You will be surprised at my address, 
which is Barbara's Cottage, not far from Hastings 
(but in Kent, as I find, or at least the above 
seems the proper form). I have been here a 
few days in company with Stillman, Wm's. 
American friend ; having come for the purpose 
of recruiting and " working off" my book with 
the conscientious decency of Mr. Dennis the 
hangman. I shall have it out before the end of 
April. Stillman and I have this house to our- 
selves, and he is an utterly unobstructive man. 
Had your letter reached me in town I might 
probably have come down to you at once, and 
discussed the plan you propose, which seems pro- 
mising — only I don't know whether such near 


seaside is likely to suit my eyes, to which, I 
believe, sea air is not suitable. However I must 
take the matter into consideration, and suppose 
I might even, if convenient to you, close at 
once with the proposal of joining you in rent for 
half a year, as it seems this wd only involve me 
in an expense of ^15. So be it so, if you like 
— I shd reckon on probable advantage in a 
summary move to Lymington at some moment 
before that time is out, but if this should by 
possibility not come to pass, must stipulate 
beforehand that there be no question as to my 
being liable for my share, as I can only under- 
take it on those terms. J 

There is really no news I know of since last 
writing. Barbara does not indulge in bell-pulls, 
hardly in servants to summon thereby — so I have 
brought my own. What she does affect is any 
amount of thorough draught — a library bearing 
the stern stamp of " Bodichon," and a kettle- 
holder with the uncompromising initials B. B. 
She is the best of women, but I fear from what 
I last saw of her that her health is failing, like 
my own. 

Ever yours, 

D. G. Rossetti. 

1 " Means that he will pay, come or not come." Note in 
Mr. Allingham's handwriting. 


p.S. — By the bye, I fell back on Keith, after 
all, in that ballad. I couldn't quite please myself 

Notes on LXI. 

Scalands, it will be remembered, was the house 
of Madame Bodichon (Miss Barbara Leigh Smith 
of earlier letters), who had been the kindest of 
friends to Rossetti's wife. She was also a warm 
friend of Allingham. "I love William Allingham," 
she was one day heard to say. 

Of Mr. Stillman, Mr. W. M. Rossetti writes :— 
" Few men could have been better adapted than 
he, none could have been more willing, to solace 
Rossetti in his harasses from insomnia and other 
troubles ; but it is a fact that a remedy worse than 
the disease was the result of his friendly ministra- 
tions. Chloral as a soporific was then a novelty. 
Mr. Stillman had heard of its potency in procuring 
sleep, and he introduced the drug to Rossetti's 
attention. My brother was one of the men least 
fitted to try any such experiment with impunity. 
He began, I understand, with nightly doses of 
chloral of ten grains. In course of time it got to 
one hundred and eighty grains!" It wrecked his 
mind, and at last destroyed his life. 

On May 4th Rossetti wrote to his mother : — " Dear 
Old Darling of 70. You will be glad to hear that 
the first edition is almost exhausted, and that Ellis 
is going to press with the second thousand. It 


will have brought me .£300 in less than a month." 
Of these Poems his brother says : — " This date, 
1870, should be borne in mind by any amateurs of 
Rossetti's work ; for the volume named Poems of 
1 88 1, though partly a reissue of the book of 1870, 
is very far from being identical with it." 

' LXII. 


[Postmark, March 7, 1870]. 
Dear Allingham, 

I now just hear casually that my book 
has been applied for to the Athenceum by one of 
its critics, I believe with friendly intentions. So 
I ought to let you know after my suggestion. 
Of course I should be very sorry if I had 
missed you. 

Ever yours 

D. G. Rossetti. 

Note on LXII. 

On February 3rd Rossetti had written to John 
Skelton : — " I am anxious that some influential 
article or articles by the well-affected should 
appear at once when the book comes out. Swin- 


burne wishes to 'do' it in the Fortnightly, and 
Morris elsewhere; and if these and yours, with 
perhaps another or so, could appear at once, 
certain spite which I judge to be brewing in at 
least one quarter might find itself at fault." On 
March 22nd he wrote to his mother: — "I shall 
certainly get the book out before the end of April, 
as three or four kindly hands are already at work 
on it for the May periodicals." 


Tuesday [August, 1870]. 
Dear Allingham, 

I'm sorry to have missed you yesterday. 
Surely my letter went out to you before 5. Could 
you come to-morrow (Wed 5 '-) instead ? 7 o'clock 

Have you seen the last Blackwood} If you 
have not, and need a relish before dinner, try it 
instead of gin and bitters. What Brother Bard 
but must find an added zest in the meat dispensed 
by the hand of detected mediocrity ? 

Ever yours 

D. G. Rossetti. 


Notes on LXIII. 

Blackwoods Magazine for August of this year 
contained a severe criticism of the Poems. I do not 
find in it, as I half expected, the words "detected 
mediocrity." The review is written in the follow- 
ing style : — " There is something in the character 
and temper of a painter so contemptuous of 
common public opinion that he refuses to exhibit 
his pictures — and of a poet who keeps his pro- 
ductions for some twenty years in the dark before 
he condescends to unfold them to the common eye 
— which in the first place attracts the imagination. 
Such a man walks serene at a height inaccessible 
to the common din, the comments and criticisms 
of lower earth. Such a man is too far removed 
from us to desire to be understood upon our level ; 
he addresses himself to the choice souls — the world 
within a world — the select of humanity." The 
reviewer says towards the close : — " In none of 
these poems, however, is there the least indication 
of a new poet arisen to bless us." 

Rossetti's friend, John Skelton, the " Shirley " 
of Blackwood, had not been able to help him, at 
all events in that periodical. 



[About November, 1870]. 
Dear Allingham, 

I can put your books on my basement 
floor — (stone-paved servants' hall) — where they will 
not be in the damp, I believe, and can stand clear 
of the floor if thought necessary. Or if you think 
it absolutely needed, I can clear space in a lumber- 
room upstairs. 

Ever yours, 

D. G. Rossetti. 


16, Cheyne Walk, 
Friday \about November, 1870]. 
Dear Allingham, 

I'm very sorry to tell you the high tide 
yesterday got into my basement floor, and that 3 
of your boxes were a foot or more deep in water 
for some time. It is most vexatious to think what 
may have happened to the books. Will you look 
in to-day at dusk and stay to dinner at 6 ? I am 
only sorry that I have to go out about 7. 

Ever yours, 

D. G. Rossetti. 


Note on LXV. 

" On the basement of Rossetti's house at 
Chelsea," writes his brother, " there were spacious 
kitchen-rooms and an oddly complicated range of 
vaults, which perhaps had at one time led directly 
off to the river-side." The Thames Embankment 
had not as yet been raised in front of Cheyne 
Walk. In one of the boxes deposited on the 
basement floor it chanced that Allingham had 
placed the letters he had received from Rossetti. 
Some of them still bear marks of the flood ; two 
or three have been much injured, and one has 
been rendered illegible. 

With this brief note the correspondence between 
the two men came to an end. Their friendship, 
once so strong and close, was not to last till death 
should come to give the final separation. So early 
as 1864 Allingham recorded in a note, "Our in- 
timacy is a thing of the past." It must have 
revived to a certain extent, for in 1867 Rossetti 
passed some time with him at his house in Lym- 
ington. With the lapse of years, the letters, as 
has been seen, became less frequent and far briefer. 
So late as Christmas, 1868, we find the great 
painter signing himself, " Yours affectionately " ; 
after that date he is merely, " Ever yours." 
Warm hearted though he was in his friendships, 
nevertheless few of them lasted to the end of life. 
"It is a fact," writes his brother, "and a melan- 


choly one, that Dante Rossetti, as the years 
progressed, lost sight of all his Praeraphaelite 
Brothers, except only of Stephens at sparse in- 
tervals — ' dear stanch Stephens, one of my oldest 
and best friends,' as he wrote of him." He became 
estranged from Ruskin and Browning. Between 
him and Allingham, happily, there was no open 
and direct breach. The long friendship slowly 
died away. 




Acland, Sir Henry, 149 

Addison, Joseph, 28 

Alexander, Miss Francesca, 10 

Allingham, William, sketch of his 
life, xvii-xxviii; calls on Haw- 
thorne, 1 ; portrait, 34 ; criti- 
cises Rossetti's poems, xxvii, 45, 
54, 73, 8 4, 101, i2i, 140, 247; 
at Coniston, 104; bust, 126, 
134; at Dublin, 146; customs, 
147, 149; life at Ballyshannon, 
1 84 ; edits Poe's poems, 2 2 r ; 
at Lymington, 268, 271, 291 ; 
books flooded, 296. Poems : 
Abbey Asaroe, 209, 211; Day 
and Xight Songs, 3, 12, 34, 
44, 49, 54, 60, 71, 82, 87; 
The Dream, 78 ; Fifty Modern 
Poems, 274, 276; The Ruined 
Chapel, xxvi; Laurence Bloom- 
field, 227, 230; Mea Culpa, 
214, 219, 222; Morley Park, 
256, 259; The Mowers, 190, 
198 ; The Music Master, 136, 
154, 240; Xightingale Valley, 
214-222; Spring is Come, 135; 
The Three Sisters, 171; Way- 
side Well, 134; Would I Knew, 
56, 60 

Allingham, Mrs., xviii 
Allingham, Miss C, 153 
Anthony, Mark, 123, 128 
Archer, J., 258, 260 
Arnold, Matthew, 125, 130, 169, 

183, 200, 220, 270 
Ashburton, Lady, 289 
AtlieucBiuu, The, 33, 154, 157 
Aytoun, W. E., 57, 62 

Bacon, Francis, 34, 42, 264 
Bailey, Philip James, 62, 172, 

Baynes, T. S., 167 
Beddoes, Thomas Lovell, 238, 

Bell Savage Tavern, 14, 23, 28, 

50, 139, 144 
Benozzo Gozzoli, 180, 183 
Bernal, Ralph, 125, 133 
BLickwood's Magazine, 191, 294 
Blake, William, 158, 165, 237, 

241, 259, 261-4 
Blanchard, E., 101 
Boase, G. C, 143 
Boddington, Mary, 179, 182 
Bodichon, Madame, sec Smith 
" Bogie book," see Wilkinson 
Boswell, James, 225 
Bowman, Sir William, 279-81 



Boyce, George Price, 48, 96, 103, 

109, 196, 274 
Boyle, Hon. Mrs., 55, 59 
Bright, Canon, 176 
Brimley, George, 160, 167 
Bronte, Charlotte, 74, 80, 125, 

130, 141 
Bronte, Emily, 58, 62, 74, 125, 

130, 141 
Brough, — , 225 
Brown, Ford Madox, 40, 52, 77, 

8 9> 9°, 97. "2, i85> 187. 188, 
199, 204, 252, 259 ; Chaucer at 
the Court of Edward III., 76 ; 
Jesus washing Peter's Feet, 37, 
190, 198; H ay 1 field ; King 
Lear, 23 ; Poets of Nineteenth 
Century, 190; Wickliffe, 20, 
24; Work, 190, 198 
Browning, Robert, Rossetti's ad- 
miration of him, 28, 156, 163, 

165, 189; — suspicions, 170, 
196, 298; — proposed illus- 
trations of his poems, 173, 
190 ; compared with W. B. 
Scott, 117, 120; Italian art, 
160; father, uncle, and sister, 

161, 168 ; portrait by Page, 

162, 181 ; — by Rossetti, 163, 

166, 170; reads The Mystic, 
1 64 ; described by Hawthorne, 
167; evening with Tennyson, 
169; coupled with Longfellow, 
181, 183; spiritualism, 195, 
205 ; at Siena, 238, 241. 
Poems : Blot on the Scutcheon, 
168; Men and Women, 156, 
159, 228; Pauline, 168; Ring 
and the Book, 283 ; Sordello, 
22, 28, 161 

Browning, Mrs., 58, 63, 162, 189, 
195-6, 205-6, 238, 248 

Brownrigg, Elizabeth, 58, 63 

Buchanan, Robert, 286 

Burne-Jones, Sir Edward, Oxford 
and Cambridge Magazine, 1 74, 
176-8, 194; admiration of 
Rossetti, 179; designs, 192, 
233 ; Red Lion Square, 193, 
201, 203; marriage, 224; in- 
timacy with Rossetti, 227, 229, 
2 3 8 » 239; art firm, 252, 254, 

Burr, Mrs., 179 

Byron, Lord, 118, 130, 218 

Caine, T. Hall, 170, 221 
Cameron, Mrs., 239, 244, 282 
Campbell, Major Calder, 18 
Canning, Countess, 145 
Carlyle, Thomas, xviii, 6, 22, 27, 

86, 95, 106, 237, 284 
Cayley, Charles Bagot, 29, 37, 

44, 138 
Cheshire Cheese Tavern, 200 
Clayton, J. R., 108, 112 
Clough, Arthur Hugh, 104 
Coleridge, Samuel Taylor, 175 
Collingwood, W. G., 10, 231 
Collins, Charles Alston, 34, 125, 

Collinson, James, 126, 133 
Combe, Thomas, 125, 131, 133 
Combe, Mrs., 41, 132-3 
Conington, John, 176 
Crabbe, Rev. George, 102, 107 
Creswick, Thomas, 97 


Dallas, Eneas Sweetland, 139 

Dalrymple, Mrs., 236, 239 


Dalziel, Messrs., 96, 108, 112, 

114, "7, 120, 122, 138, 173, 

191, 199, 207 
Davis, William, 123, 129 
Deane, Sir Thomas, 146, 148 
Delacroix, 164, 171 
Delane, John T., 143 
De Morgan, Professor, 205 
De Vere, Aubrey, 172, 175, 245, 

Deverell. Walter H., 4, 26, 70, 

76, 101, 132, 143, 193, 201 
Dickinson, Lowes, 32 
Dixon, Canon, 176, 179 
Dixon, William Hepworth, 57, 61 
Dobell, Sidney, 62, 139, 143, 191, 

199, 285, 287 
Donovan, — , 228, 231 
Dowden, Professor Edward, 146 
Dyce, William, 22, 32 

Eastlake, Sir Charles L., 22, 32 
Elliott, Rev. William, 190, 198 
Ellis, F. S., 289 
Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 37, 264 

Fairbairn, Sir Thomas, 25 
Faulkner, Charles Joseph, 176, 

201-2, 235, 252, 254-5 
Ferguson, Samuel, xxiv 
Folio, The, 36, 42, 47, 55 
Frere, Hookham, 8 
Froude, James Anthony, xix, xxvii 
Fulford, Rev. William, 177 

Gambart, 187 
Garrick, David, 77 
Germ, The, 59, 64-9, 174 
Gibbon, Edward, 165 

2 37, 

Gilchrist, Alexander, 200 

241, 264 
Gilchrist, Mrs., 185, 241, : 

259, 284 
Gilfillan, George, xxiv 
Gillum, Colonel, 60, 276 
Giotto, r6, 180 
Goodall, Frederick, R.A., 21, 
Goss, George, 276 
Gosse, Edmund, 142 
Grant, Sir Francis, R.A., 198 


Haile. Dr., 13 

Hallam, Arthur, 141 

Hannay, James, 22, 26, 33, 56, 

61, 102, 106, 139-40, 144, 154 
Hare, Augustus J. C, 145 
Hatch, Rev. Dr. Edwin, 177 
Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 1, 105 

167, 197, 205, 262 
Hayley, William, 159, 165 
Heaton, Miss, t8i 
Heine, 96 

Herbert, George, 218 
Hobbies, 122 
Hogarth, William, 71, 77 
Hood, Thomas, 122 
Hook, James Clarke, R.A., 187, 

Horsley, John Callcott, R.A., 97 
Houghton, Lord, 169 
Howell, Charles A., 279 
Howitt, Anna Mary (Mrs. Howitt- 

Watts), 3, 13, 18, 36, 47, 50, 

98, 195, 204 
Howitt, Mrs., 26, 94, 204, 286 
Howitt, William, 15, 195 
Hughes, Arthur, 69, 97, 132, 156, 

254. Pictures and designs : 

April Love, 193 ; Eve of St. 



Agues, 182, 187 ; Illustrations of 
Day and Night Songs, 42, 55, 
60, 82, 109; Labourer's Return 
from Work, 257 ; Ophelia, 20, 
25; Orlando, 72, 123, 129; 
Porphyro and Madeline, 163; 
portrait of Allingham, 34; 
Soldier's Return, 126, 135 ; 
Sketches in Cornwall, 4 
Hughes, Edward, 130 
Hunt, Leigh, xxiv, 116 
Hunt, William Henry, 164 
Hunt, William Holman, defended 
by Ruskin, 16, 24; in the 
East, 33, 41, 57, 74, 100, 163, 
208; Rossetti's youth, 28; — 
impatience, 49 ; — opinion of 
sculpture, 75;— memory, 119; 
— recitation, 2 20; — indifference 
to music, 266 ; The Germ, 65, 
68; Royal Academy, 123-4, 
128,187; P.R.B., 132-4, 183; 
Paris Exhibition, 164, 167, 
171; likeness, 198; Thomas 
Seddon, 208-9. Pictures : 
Christian Missionary, 68 ; 
Finding of the Saviour, 182, 
186, 190 ; Lantern Maker's 
Courtship, 258-9 ; Light of the 
World, 33, 41, 132, 145 ; 
Rienzi, 68 ; Scapegoat, 92, 
182, 187 ; Tennyson Illus- 
trations, 97, 191 ; Two Gentle- 
men of Verona, 20, 24, 125 

Idler, The, 163, 171 
Illustrated Books, 97 
Inchbold, J. T., 123, 129 
Ingelow, Jean, 267, 270 
Ingres, 164, 172 


Jenner and Knewstub, 268, 271 
Johnson, Dr., 77, 142, 225 


Keats, John, 228-9, 2 3 I > 2 ^7 
Keightley, Thomas, 71, 78 
Kincaird, Mrs., 150 
Kingsley, Rev. Charles, 240 
Kipling, Rudyard, 225 
Knaus, Ludwig, 164 

Landseer, Sir Edwin, 97 
Layard, Sir Austen Henry, 180, 

Leader, The, 102 
Lear, Edward, 40 
Leathart, James, 76, 129 
Leighton, Lord, R.A., 123, 130, 

Lewes, George Henry, 106 
Lewis, John, 164 
Linnell, John, 133, 235 
Linton, W. J., 191 
Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth, 

181, 183 
Lushington, Vernon, 194 


MacCracken, Francis, 4, 20, 23, 

30, 48, 84, 125, 131 
MacDowell, Patrick, R.A., 126, 

Maclennan, John Ferguson, 30, 

37, 209 
Maclise, Daniel, R.A., 97 
Macmillan, Messrs., 30, 256, 

257, 259, 289 
Marochetti, Baron, 90 



Marshall, Peter Paul, 252, 254, 

2 75 
Marshall, — , 2 
Martin, Sir Theodore, 62 
Massey, Gerald, 57, 61 
Masson, Professor, 22, 160 
Maurice, Rev. F. D. f 83, 87 
Mazzini, Giuseppe, 8 
Meinhold, Wilhelm, 58, 62 
Meredith, George, 248, 250, 267, 

Millais, Sir John Everett, P.R.B., 
16, 24, 183 ; dealings with 
MacCracken, 20 ; recommends 
Woolner, 22 ; The Folio, 43, 
47 ; Sketching Club, 59 ; The 
Genu, 64, 68; Royal Academy, 
123, 127; at Oxford, 133; 
marriage, 153 ; Paris Exhibi- 
tion, 164; neglected, 186. 
Pictures : Autumn Leaves, 
181, 185, 187; Blind Girl, 
181, 185 ; Day and Night 
Songs illustrated, 96, 127, 155; 
Design for Trinity College, 
Dublin, 141, 146; Ferdinand 
lured by Ariel, 50; Ophelia, 
5, 6; Peace Concluded, 181; 
Poets of the Nineteenth Cen- 
tury illustrated, 191 ; The 
Rescue, 100, 123, 127 ; Tenny- 
son illustrated, 97 ; Vale of 
Rest, 92 
Miller, John, 129, 150-2, 187, 


Milsand, J., 161, 168 

Moore, Thomas, 118 

Morris, William, Oxford and 
Cambridge Magazine, 176-8, 
192, 194, 200; poems, 192, 
201 ; illumination, 193; Oxford 
to London, 202 ; house at 

Upton, 233, 235; art firm, 
235, 252-5 ; birth of a daughter, 
251 ; reviews Rossetti, 294 

Moxon, Edward, 97 

Mulready, William, 22, 32, 97, 

Munro, Alexander, 20, 26, 34, 69, 
90, 126, 134, 139, 164, 190, 

Murray, Dr. James A. H., 290 


Nightingale, Miss, 19 
North, William, 100, 106 


Oakes, — , 150, 152 
Once a Week, 248 
Opie, John, 244 
Orme, Mrs., 73, 80 
Ormesby, — , 192, 200 
Oxford and CambridgeMagazine, 
*73> 175- I 9 2 > !94, 200, 2 °4 

Page, William, 162, 181 

Parker, John, 79, 201 

Parkes, Miss Bessie Rayner 

(Mme. Belloc), 3, 11, 147, 

153, 182, 186 
Patmore, Coventry, xxiv, xxv, 22, 

27, 5 1 * 54. 68, 80, 85, 93, 99, 

104, 117, 138-9,163,170, 191, 

236, 239 
Patmore, T. G., 93 
Paul, B. H, 57, 61 
Paul Veronese, 124, 228, 230 
Pennant, Thomas, 28 
Pietro della Francesca, 180 
Plint, T. E., 60, 190, 198 
Poe, Edgar Allan, 57, 62, 219, 




Poetry, 137, 142, 184 

Poets of the Nineteenth Century, 

i73. i7S, i9° 
Polydore, Henry R, 56, 61 
Polydori, Dr., 115, 118 
Porson, Richard, 166 
Poynter, Sir Edward John, R.A., 

Prseraphaelites, 16, 65, 103, 132, 

183, 241, 253, 298 


Read, Thomas Buchanan, 85, 93, 

189, 191 
Reynolds' Miscellany, 209 
Ristori, 197 
Rossetti, Christina G., 63, 177, 

2iS> 2 57, 259> z8 9 
Rossetti, Dante Gabriel, Bath, 
visits, 188; Belgium, 272; 
birthday, 127, 135; Chatham 
Place, 142, 238, 251 ; Cheyne 
Walk, 269, 297 ; Clevedon, 
136, 141 ; Cockney rhymes, 
xxvii, 222; co-operator, 117; 
Correggio, &c, contempt of, 
241; correspondence destroyed, 
xxviii ; criticism sought, 54, 84 ; 
critics, provides friendly, 293 ; 
debts, 12, 15, 23, 59, 64; 
described by Mme. Belloc, 6 ; 
— by Leighton, 1 30 ; — by 
Burne-Jones, 179; Englishman, 
92 ; " fierce light of imagina- 
tion,'' 27; Folio, 43; friend- 
ships, 21, 26, 48, 51, l88, 225, 

297 ; goods seized, 93 ; Hamp- 
stead, 226, 234; Hastings, 3, 
13, 17, 19; impatience, 49; 
income, 64, 131, 261, 270, 277- 
•8, 293; Italy, 267, 270; late 
hours, 135; marriage, 223; 

memory, 119; money-making, 
23, 51 ; music, 266 ; neglected, 
186; painting versus poetry, 
46, 50, 166; Paris, 156, 164, 
167, 223 ; politics, 9 ; portrait, 
198; recitation, xxvi, 120; Red 
Lion Square, 193, 201, 203 ; 
Robertsbridge, 15,290; Ruskin, 
friendship with, 16, 139, 143, 
204, 298; — , lays siege to, 163; 

— buys his pictures, 163, 171; 

— criticises them, 271; science, 
270; sculpture, 75; Siddal, 
Miss, love for, 4, 18, 35, 113, 
165, 196; — death, 241, 269; 
sight failing, 280; sleeplessness, 
282, 292 ; spiritualism, 195, 204 ; 
town-bred, 221 ; water-colours 
and oil-painting, 207 ; wombat, 
229 ; work, hours of, 275, 27.7 ; 
youth untainted, 28 ; zebu, 
270. Paintings, &c. : — Beata 
Beatrix, 6 ; Beatrice at a Mar- 
riage Feast, 164, 171; Blue 
Closet, 193, 201 ; Dante draw- 
ingan Angel, 125, 131 ; Dante's 
Vision, 174, 179, 181; Ecce 
Ancilla Domini, 25, 125, 131; 
Found, 18, 47, 71, 73, 77,83, 90, 
120, 164; Fra Pace, 174, 179; 
Francesca da Rimini, 163 ; 
Hamlet and Ophelia, 47, 55, 
60; Hesterna; Rosa; 213; 
Johnson, &c., 225 ; Launcelot 
and Guenevere, 164; Llandaff 
Cathedral Altar-piece, 174, 
179 ; Maids of Elf en Mere, 44, 
55, 7°, 76, 82, 95, 109, ii2, 
113; Mary Magdalene, 212; 
Morris's house, paintings in, 
235 ; replicas, 272 : Salulatio 
Beatricis, 235 ; Tennyson il- 



lusirated, 97, 103, 173, 191, 
207-8; — portrait, 162, 170; 
wall-paper design, 251. Wri- 
tings: — A Dark Day, 102, 107; 
Ave, 245; Birth-Bond, 46; 
Blake, Supplement to Life of, 
263; Blessed Damozel, 1 94, 2 46 ; 
Bride Chamber Talk, 232, 235, 
245 ; Burden of Nineveh, 194, 
204 ; Dennis Shand, 245 ; Early 
Italian Poets, 29, 37, 44, 49, 
53-4, 5 8 > 64, 101, 127, 212, 
2 53> 2 S5, 26o J Even So, 27; 
Hill Summit, 45, 49 ; Hodge- 
podge, 246 ; House of Life, 79 ; 
Hymn, 244 ; 246 ; Jenny, 232, 
234, 247, 249 ; Lost on Both 
Sides, 31, 38, 45 ; MacCracken, 
31 ; Mirror, 245 ; Poems (1870), 
292 ; Portrait, 245 ; S/sfer 
Helen, 285, 292 ; Sonnets in 
the Fortnightly Review, 283 ; 
Si. Agnes of Intercession, 64; 
Stratton Water, 80, 84; II e/- 
lington's Funeral, 245 

Rossetti, Gabriele, 7-10, 50, 64, 

Rossetti, Frances M. L., 292 

Rossetti, Teodorico Pietrocola-, 
7, 10 

Rossetti, William, his father's 
death, '8 ; intimacy with Major 
Campbell, 19; tours, 57, 154, 
272 ; edits The Germ, 65 ; 
Prose Paraphrase of the House 
of Life, 79 ; Airs. Holmes 
Grey, 107 ; reads Browning, 
157 ; fellow-feeling with his 
brother, 159; at Browning's 
house, 162, 238, 241 ; admira- 
tion of Walt Whitman, 185 ; 
sketched by Madox Brown, 

198; Blake's MSS., 241; 

shares his brother's house, 

269; edits Shelley, 265, 286-8 

Routledge, Messrs., 7, 72, 96, 156 

Royal Academy, 123, 128, 257, 

Ruskin, John, Allingham's poems, 
83, 215, 219, 222; Blake's 
engravings, 158; Brown, F- 
M., neglects, 112, 199; Essays 
on Political Economy ,228, 231 ; 
Evidence on Royal Academy, 
269 ; " the graduate," 24 ; 
Lectures on Architecture, &c, 
16, 69; Letter to the Critic,_2$6, 
239, 243 ; Modem Painters, 
170, 181, 183; Morris's work, 
193; Praraphaelites, defends 
the, 1 6, 69 ; Rossetti's friendship 
with, 14, 16, 58, 79, 139, 143, 
207, 271, 298; — pictures 
bought, 4, 163, 171 ; — poems, 
140, 194, 204, 234; — reads 
Men and Women to him, 163; 
— influences his criticism, 188 ; 
Rossetti, T. P., influences 
him, 10; Siddal, kindness to 
Miss, 3, 5, no, 113, 115, 118, 
149, 225 ; " talks rubbish," 
269 ; Working Men's College, 
71, 83, 87-90, 98 

Saffi, Count Aurelio, 54 
Scott, William Bell, 38, 51, 74, 
76, 81, 86, 88, 95, 116, 119, 

Seddon, Thomas, 41, 100, 106, 

128, 150, 152, 206 
Seward, Miss, 166 
Shakespeare, William, 218 




Shelley, Percy Bysshe, 131, 182, 

Shorter, Clement, 62 

Siddal, Elizabeth Eleanor (Mrs. 
Rossetti), at Hastings, 3, 13; 
Ruskin's kindness, 3, no, 113, 
115, 1 1 8, 149; Rossetti's love 
for her, see under Rossetti; 
described, 4, 6 ; sketches, 14, 

3 7> 34. 99. IXI , x 4°. !4 6 > i6i j 
186, 246, 276; proposed il- 
lustrations of Tennyson, 97, 
103, in, 113; ill-health, 15, 
18, 35, 227, 255 ; at Clevedon, 
136, 141 ; winters abroad, 149, 
158, 165 ; at Bath, 196 ; mar- 
riage, 223-7 ; death, 269 

Skelton, John, 53, 79, 293, 295 

Smith, Alexander, 139, 143, 191, 
199, 209 

Smith, Barbara Leigh (Mme. 
Bodichon), 5, 11, 13, 15, 17, 
47. 80, 99, 194, 290-2 

Smith, Bernhard, 38 

Smith, Gold win, 176 

Smith and Elder, 42, 101, 261 

Southey, Robert, 63 

Spiritualism, 195, 204 

Stanfield, William Clarkson, R. A., 

Stanley, Dean, xix, 176 
Stephens, Frederick George, 34, 

47, 5°. 57, 198, 298 
Sterling, John, 37 
Stillman, William, 290, 292 
Stokes, Whitley, 192, 200 
Stone, Frank, 41 
Stowe, Mrs., 182 
Stunner, 144 
Surtees, Robert, 218 
Sutton, — , 48, 50 
^Swinburne, Algernon Charles, 

admires Wuthering Heights, 
62 ; Rossetti seeks his criticism, 
54; — sub-tenant, 267, 270; 
— Poems, 293 ; Plays, 238, 
242-3, 249 ; attacked by 
Buchanan, 287 

Taylor, Sir Henry, 37, 170, 175, 
212-3, 2I 8. 22 ° 

Taylor, Warrington, 265 

Tennyson, Alfred, " cockney 
rhymes," xxiii; The Kraken,^, 
37 ; Woolner and the gold- 
diggings, 39; illustrated edition, 
97, 103, in, 191 ; at Coniston, 
104 ; In Memoriam, 141 ; por- 
trait by Rossetti, 162, 170 ; 
Maud, 169, 240 ; recitation, 
xxvi, 170; compared with 
Aubrey de Vere, 175 ; Oxford 
andCambridge Magazine, 178; 
bust, 189, 197 ; Manchester 
Exhibition, 197 ; Nightingale 
Valley, 218; photographs, 244 : 
at Freshwater, 282 

Tennyson, Mrs., in 

Thackeray, William Makepeace, 
80, 231 

Thomas, William Cave, 65 

Times, The, 57 

Tintoret, 231 

Tourganief, Ivan, 230 

Tupper, Alexander, 68 

Tupper, Martin Farquhar, 102 
106, 185 

Turner, J. M. W., 4, 92 

V ' 
Victoria, Queen, xix, 123 




Waagen, Dr., 33, 41 
Waterford, Marchioness of, 59, 

140, 144 
Watts, George Frederick, R.A., 

Webb, Philip, 252 
Wells, Mrs., 258 
Wentworth, William Charles, 39- 

40, 48, 106, 126 
White, — , 20, 23 
Whitman, Walt, 181, 183-5 
Wilberforce, E., 171 
Wilkinson, Dr. J. Garth, 12-13, 

237, 261-4 
Willmott, Rev. R. A., 173, 175 
Wilson, Richard, R.A., 26 
Windus (a Liverpool painter), 

Windus, B. G, 84, 91 

Woodward, Benjamin, 140, 145 

Woolner, Thomas, Wentworth's 
statue, 21, 32, 39, 48, 100, 106, 
126 ; Wordsworth group, 32, 
40 ; success in life, 40 ; gold- 
diggings, 38 ; returns to Eng- 
land, 70, 139 ; The Germ, 65 ; 
manners, 75; Carlyle and W. 
B. Scott, 86 ; Dalziel's en- 
graving, 114; Millais and the 
Royal Academy, 128; sketches 
in clay, 163 ; bust of Tennyson, 
189, 197 ; meets A. Smith, 191 ; 
Aurora Leigh, 196 

Wordsworth, William, Woolner's 
statue, 32, 40 ; compared with 
Crabbe, 102 ; — with Aubrey 
de Vere, 175 ; "good but un- 
bearable," 218, 220, 233 

Working Men's College, 71, 83, 
87-90, 98 

Cbe Orcsbam press